Color Alphabet Letter Choices

Fig is still learning the names of 13 colors, and we continue to adjust the names of the colors in search of 13 easy to say, and hear sounds for Fig.

The 13, single syllable color words were:
ah-white, ko-black, ha-brown, ka-pink, arr-silver/gray, rah-gold, no-clear, aka-red, oh-orange, ki-yellow, do-green, ao-blue, oa-purple

Changes: Fig has difficulty saying the syllable K, or kuh, and has herself suggested that AKA or RED be changed to AWA, so it has.

In fact, Crows do NOT ka, kaw, or caw; they actually aw! They say AW!

Fig will also say the sound GWAH or QUWA. Look, it's her language. It is all foreign to me, the point is, it is very hard to catch the sounds she is saying exactly because it's Crow, not my native language. Anyway, I have observed that WA and GWA are in her natural lexicon, and she naturally suggested AWA in place of AKA, so I have decide to make the additional changes of KA to GWA, KO to GO.

These changes mean that...
1. the vowels Ah, Oh, and now U (long ooh, as in ooh la la) are present.
2. the vowel I (hard E) is now out. I cannot get her to say it easily.
3. the hard vowels A,E,I,U are excluded, but hard O is in.
4. the soft vowels Egg, Igloo, Apple, Umbrella, are excluded, but Ah is in.
5. the consonants B,C,D,F,J,K,L,M,P,Q,S,T,V,X,Y,Z are out, but D,G,H,N,R, GW, W are in.

I suspect in time:
N will change to M
D will get axed too.
Double vowel sounds UA will get included, but not AU as it is too similar to AO.

The end result of this quest for a working alphabet will be:
(Changes are indicated in red.)
ah-white
go-black
ha-brown
gwa-pink
arr-silver/gray
rah-gold
awa-red
oh-orange
ua-yellow
wa-green
ao-blue
oa-purple
mo-clear

Seen another way:
ah, ar, awa/ ha, wa, gwa, ra/ ao
oh/ go, mo/ oa
ua

From this alphabet, I should be able to make lots of words such as:
ah go
ah mo
ah ra
ah ha
go ra
ha go
etc... but I will need to calculate the exact number of easily distinguishable words as I am hoping to aim for an alphabet that can make around 1000 words.

I suspect three letter words may be the ticket for good communication.
ah go ah
ah mo ah
...but this requires further thinking down the road.

I Made A Crow Cry

Now I've gone and done it; I will be in big trouble with animal lovers world-wide for sure. Thank goodness no one reads this blog except me. Anyway, here is one story that most people will react to with dismissive scepticism, like my wife, whose initial reaction when I first got out of the shower with Fig was something along the lines of, Yeah right.

Fig fell off our building a year ago. She had suffered a terrible infection in the nest which bled. When she tried to fledge, one of her wings did not open due to the fact that blood had adhered that one wing to her body. In the subsequent 12 story fall, she suffered a fractured humerus when she used her wing to break her fall to the ground. Anyway, she ended up in my care where she has been ever since. In those first few days that I had her, she would sit on my knee in the evenings, and she would "cry" for a good long time, maybe an hour or two if I remember correctly. I say cry because the noise she made sounded just like a baby's cry, though muted, as if the baby is far off in the distance. Her beak is open, her head is down, she is panting in grief, sobbing constrained breaths. You know when you are most upset, your crying can be quite quiet because you cannot breath with your chest muscles tightened up, it must be the same for a bird. It was obviously anxiety, and distress she was experiencing. I am not anthropomorphizing. Fig's crying episodes halted after a few days if I recall correctly. At the time, I decided that she must be crying for her mother, and her siblings who she longed to be with again. Thankfully, she was able to keep in touch as they live locally much of the year.

Anyway, I totally forgot all about this crying she did when she first came to me a year ago, but the other day I was reminded of it. My usual weekday routine with Fig is to spend time with her in the morning, and in the afternoon. Recently, we had a long weekend, and it was my birthday, so we spent an entire day out at a family BBQ. We left early in the morning, and came back after dark. This must have been the very first time in a year that the whole family has gone out for the entire day, ignoring poor Fig. I realize that is hard to believe, that we have not been out for a whole day in a year, but what is perhaps even harder to believe is that our having done so brought poor Fig to tears. Tears and tears, in fact, in that order.

Like a child waiting forever to be picked up at school by its absent-minded father, Fig got pretty upset that she had gotten none of her usual attention for a whole day. She tore up a perch cover to express her displeasure at having been dissed all day long. Even though I left her loads of special yummies to gobble, she obviously did not like being left alone all day. Foam bits everywhere, and a hole in the fence. When I brought her in to get her ready for her night box that evening, she was still miffed. She tore the foam ends off her indoor perch and chucked them every which way. She had never so much as touched them before.

To comfort Fig, I sat her on my knee, where she usually sits when I wash her face in the shower. But this evening she sat on my knee, and for about 30 minutes she cried, looking into my eyes intently, and I then remembered, a year ago when she had just lost her family, and cried about it. Again she sat slumped, beak open, breathing constrained sobs and high pitched, but very muted baby cries emmanating from within. Unmistakably crying.

You can say it isn't so all you wish, and I suspect most people who hear this story will, but I now know for certain that Crows cry. Fig's eyes even glazed over, though I can't say there were any tears trailing down. I just hope I can avoid making Fig cry ever again. I promise to do my very best not to. I suppose I should be proud to have made it an entire year without upsetting her but once, but as her adoptive father, it is the once that weighs on my conscience, and will. Cats and dogs are happy as heck to see you come home, and more so the later you are for sure, but something about the Fig's cry is simply heartbreakingly astounding, moving, and touching. I shall never forget it.