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Wednesday, April 4, 2012

The crow wars

Crows…..
In my lifetime, there have been several revealing documentaries, and studies done on the life and behavior of these neato birdies.  They’re super smart, and actually keep their young with them a few years before sending them out on their own. Also in my lifetime I have scooped up many a injured crow and other birds off of streets. In order to take them to a rehabilitation center for wild animals. So I just figured as far as crow karma, I was set for life.
No.
While living at our old apartment building. I heard residents and staff members complain about the aggressive crows that hang around the building. Apparently they dive bomb passersby, and actually scratch and peck at them. I never had such an incident happen to me while living there. I chalked it up to crow karma, yay me.
One morning as I took Andy out to pee, on the 3rd floor roof top garden. I heard a crow cawing madly…the sound got closer…then something buzzed my head. It was a freaking crow, he landed on a pole and continued cawing at me. I ignored him and continued walking Andy about.
CAW! CAW! CAW!
Buzzed me again, except this time he used his talons to grab onto my long luxurious hair. I waved an arm at him and he flew off onto a pole, clutching the trophy of a few strands and continued to caw at me. I figured he was just an @$$hole, so  Andy and I went back inside. On the numerous occasions I took Andy to the rooftop garden. I was repeatedly dive bombed and harassed by this mean crow. I got wise though, whenever he was about to dive he would CAW! CAW! CAW!  As he if he was saying DIE! DIE! DIE! So when I heard this battle cry I would simply wave my arm up in the air, the crow would  freak and retreat. Problem solved? No.

 The crow then got wise, and started implementing silent attacks. So I got wise again and just kept an eye on him while in the garden. There was no attack that I couldn’t see coming and after a while. The crow stopped diving at me, as long as I kept him in my sights. Yes, the bird with a brain the size of a peanut, had met his match. So he went and got some friends. Next day as I was with Andy on the rooftop garden, I kept my eye on that crow. He oddly enough was keeping directly in my line of sight. As I was busy watching him, his buddy dive bombed me from behind.



He landed next to his comrade and shared what I can only describe as a crow giggle.
 I began to hate the crows…
 They were in perfect position for me to wind up and hurl a bag of Andy poop at them. But I couldn’t bring myself to harm them, …but I was thinking about it.
 I lamented to our jazzy concierge about the flying meanies, he explained to me that the crows had built a nest in the rooftop garden tree. And because they are so protective of their babies, they dive at anyone who dares go into the garden. That should have made me feel maternal and sympathetic to the crows. But instead the Bond villain in me smirked at the thought of using the crow babies to my advantage.
Protective of your darling little ones, eh?  That gives me and idea, Muahahahaha! Where’s my white suit!?"
 My plan was to hide in the bushes until the crows went off to find food. Then sneak up to the nest, put humorous mustaches and hats on the nestlings…maybe monocles.
And also leave a note saying something  like…”I touched your babies!”  
Ya know, something to let the parents know all their efforts are in vain and they are messing with a seriously disturbed human. But my husband dismissed the idea as “Crazy”. And that maybe I should have a drink. Eventually, when I took Andy out to pee late at night or in the early morning. I brought a gigantic umbrella with me. It was ridiculous, I got odd looks on sunny days. I told people I was Dracula because I thought  “The crows are out to get me!”  might sound weird. It worked though, the crows were sufficiently stumped on how to overcome the umbrella.
Eventually they just stopped bothering. So that’s the story of how I overcame crow oppression without having to fling a bag of poo at them.
The end.

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