Around here, it's not just a syndrome.
The baby doves we've been watching in our neighbors' window box successfully fledged, and are gone from the nest, along with their parents, although we spotted the scissor-billed mom yesterday wandering around on the zinc roof a couple of floors above the nest, as if she was visiting an old homestead from a discreet distance.
This was one of their many feedings on August 1st. Note that both have full juvenile plumage (putting a wing around mom just to try it out), and are slowly losing all of their golden down.
And this is the last picture we have, on August 3rd, just before they took off to be adult Parisians. We had asked them when they were born what we should name them, and they replied that they didn't want to be named, because having names would only increase the grief when they left.