Courting Crows
I’ve been feeding the crows lately. Not for any weird reason. I just thought it’d be the easiest way to make a new friend or two. I don’t know how it’s going. Every morning for the past few weeks I’ve been developing a new routine. I go up to the roof with Starly— the family dog— and let her nose around while I write. But before I sit down I walk over to the far side of the allotted portion of the roof we’re allowed to use and put some bits of food on top of the short wall that surrounds it. It’s the perfect height for my needs. It’s tall enough to keep the dogs and other small animals (such as children) from falling off, yet I can comfortably rest my elbows on it as I look out over the city surveying all I see in what I’m sure is a thoughtful and regal manner. It’s also the right height to put out a little something on it for the birds. which Starly can not reach. She can get real close. But try as she might, her body is not quite long enough nor her jumps quite strong enough to get at the food. She also can’t reach the birds either, but none of them are willing to bet their lives on it. So they play a little game. Except it’s not a game to the birds, I guess. Starly runs and leaps at the poor things. Jaws snapping and a growl rumbling in her chest accompanied by the scratch of her nails on the cement. She is determined. And it is a game to her. A game where she wins by losing because I don’t know what she'll do if she ever catches one of them. Ideally, she immediately lets go in surprise, the bird flies off unscathed, and for a brief moment the two are in harmony with the thought “Today was the luckiest I’ve ever been.”
I can’t know what she’ll do but I do know what kind of bird she’ll catch if it does happen. It’ll be a pigeon. No doubt the other birds just seem too smart. Too aloof. Above the situation, if you will. The crows and the gulls will. They land on nearby buildings to see what we’re up to. The pigeons are by nature more likely to just jump down and try their luck. They seem like a group always testing the edges of their evolutionary niche. That’s why they’re the only birds you see get run over by cars. They’re adapting toward the optimal time to pick at some garbage on the road. The ones who are too cautious get less food and therefore less energy to (theoretically) reproduce, while the too bold get hit by a vehicle and, well, the chances of reproducing after death are astronomically small, especially for a pigeon. Unless you wanted to make the most underwhelming sequel to Jurassic Park imaginable.
But you didn't stop to think if you should.
And when I see that happen, after I see my dog act like the unstoppable force that is a car, and I make a feeble attempt to corral my dog, I think, “am I trying to feed these guys, or am I putting out bait to keep my dog entertained?”
But I just want to find a friend in a crow. Is that so hard? Is that asking too much, to befriend a wild bird or two? To make a new friend? Or maybe even join in on… a murder?
