Friday, November 7, 2014

Scarecrows in the Night, Not in the Day!

There is no need or reason to shoot Crows if they bother you, period, especially at dawn and dusk. Ironically the feared Halloween icons are an incredibly fearful sort.

Crows cannot see well at all in the dark, and they are terrified of the dark.  More precisely, they are afraid of nocturnal predators, namely cats, and owls. In fact, if you want them to leave your city space, you might simply try installing a few lights out in the forest for them where you usually see them during the day. But a much cheaper option would be to turn off the city lights, at least for a few days, until the Crows find a new night roost, which they will.

A light near their day time roosting trees can be dim. Animals that hunt at night have reflective eyes which glow brightly, as they do in a car's headlights, and are easily detected by a Crow in the dark, if even a dim light source exists.

However, you want to scare some Crows away, say from your building, on the ultra cheap, it is easily done by making some simple, crafty, Halloween eyes. Cut two small circular holes into a toilet paper tube. Place a glow light tube inside, and seal the two ends, and voila! Cat's eyes. Or Owl's.  Put these in dark places where your problem Crows roost at night, and off they will go to find a new hotel PDQ.

At least, that's my theory. Let me know how it works.

The Mirror

It has taken a year and a half, but Fig seems finally to have figured out that she is looking at herself in the mirror. I read about a study on Pigeons which were trained to peck a dot sticker placed on their person, in order to get a food reward. When stickers were then placed where the birds could only possibly see them in their reflection, they were able to use the mirror to reach around, peck the sticker and be rewarded as usual.

I accidentally discovered that Fig could understand who I was in the mirror shortly after having read about this ingenious experiment, when a piece of grated cheese was stuck between my knuckles, unbeknownst to me, or to Fig, who was sitting on my hand, thumb turned up in front of the mirror engaged in Narcissistic conversation. When I turned my hand slightly, I could see the cheese in the mirror, and so could Fig, who quickly turned to hunt for it on my actual hand, where she quickly found, and ate it.

I never would have, could have come up with such a clever method to test perception. Pure genius.


 

As Intelligent As a 7 Year Old Human Child?

I keep reading articles citing recent science proclaiming Crows to be as intelligent as 7 year old human children. It is an interesting thought. Seeing as how we have a seven year old son, and a one and a half year old Jungle Crow in our family, I feel somewhat qualified to comment on these observations, in a lighthearted way, certainly not scientifically. Just some quick recollections.

Recently, with winter approaching, Fig spends a couple of her inside hours before bed each evening socializing with us at the dinner table.  Sitting in a new room, with a cat, was, to say the least, disconcerting and stressful for her. So, we have taken it slow, and I have let her perch on my hand, and I put my hand on the perch while I sit. The perch being the extra chair. Now, I know very well that she would love a higher perch out of reach of the cat, but part of the point is to socialize her to everyone in the family, including the cat, and visa versa. Long story short, she spent a week adjusting. Finally, she seemed comfortable with the new space, and the change to her routine, which again, is designed to challenge her a little, and keep her life experience interesting for her mental health. If the experience continued to stress her out, I would have ceased to ask her to do it, but she made daily progress, so eventually, I started asking Fig to go onto the chair, and perch there by herself. Her initial response for a few days was NO WAY. Let's remember she isn't yet two. So, she still clings tight to Daddy. When I asked her to step off my hand, onto the chair, she climbed up my arm, retreating in close to me for protection. So, I only asked her once. Then I apologized, and reassured her, and let her resume sitting on my hand.

So here is the interesting bit. A few days later, Fig is on my hand/on the perch as usual. Suddenly, she leaps off onto the perch/the back of the chair. Well! Good girl! I said. Then I offered her my hand to sit on again. No she said, pushing my hand away with her beak clearly intentionally, demonstrating determination to impress me with her newly declared independence. Now, as the parent of a seven year old, I can tell you that this behavior is exactly what my son does when I gently ask him to do something challenging and new. At first he may object outright, but if I have not been pushy, or shamed him, given a couple of days, he will suddenly jump to it with a proud Look Daddy! I'm doing it!!! Another day or two down the road, and I suddenly find that I have to be very careful bringing Fig into the house, because now she wants to leap/fly through the house, daring the cat to have a go for her rather tauntingly, finally leaping up to the back of HER chair rather dare devil proudly.

This is not the only anecdote which aptly fits the description. If I give Fig some new, or disliked food for example, she will ignore it, or toss it aside, even if she is hungry. She will work her charms for something better, and her patience is incredible. BUT if I tell her sternly to eat something which I know is good for her, that she is not too fond of, I will come back in a few minutes to discover that she has "dutifully" chewed it into tiny tiny pieces and tossed it all over the place in what I must imagine is supposed to be a convincing scene meant to fool me into thinking that she has had a go at eating her veggies as she was told.

For every parent, the ultimate frustration is the invisible quality our voices take on to our children's blind ears. At times we are tempted to raise our voices and gesticulations to embarrassing levels which even our own children cannot ignore. When we do this, as we rein in our children, they are likely to appear to shrink, or shrivel in compliance. Yes, Daddy. Fig is no different in this regard when I am doing my best to handle her safely during outside exercise. Who is more rambunctious, child or Crow, is very tough to say.

As intelligent? Jury is still out. Just like a human child? Very much so.