Raising the Young

I have had unusually abundant opportunities to observe mothers and fathers with their young this year. Feeding, preening, and talking to them intimately. Defending them, too. I'll try and write a few observations at a later time.

I had one long chance to observe the intimate communication, and preening of a known mother with her one offspring from a mere 15-20 feet away, for almost ten minutes from below, to one side. It was the perfect spot because the mother was paying attention to the young one to her right, and I was left, and behind her. It was a great chance to learn a lot about how to mother a baby Crow. The chatter is fascinating stuff. The preening, and encouragement is very touching to observe. Unfortunately, when the mother hopped a 180, she saw me observing her, recognized me instantly from the forest, was surprised to see me downtown (a quarter mile away), and immediately swooped down into the tree I was under. She tried to poop on me, growled a bit, tore off and tossed down a couple of small branches from the tree, then reattended to her baby. Had she not know me, she would have just ignored the attentions as that of just another person on the sidewalk; she would not have cared at all as there were dozen of people out on the sidewalk. I suspect she could have easily successfully pooped on me, growled more vociferously, and chucked down much larger branches, but she knows me, and I read her message as very simply and straight forwardly, "Buzz off you bothersome man! How dare you stare at me and my kid." and that seems entirely reasonable, doesn't it? Crows are, in fact, darn reasonable creatures.

Delayed Satisfaction/Family Planning

I've read that cultures which practice forms of delayed satisfaction have higher rates of some other beneficial bologna. For example, in Japan, everyone parks their cars backwards. I have no idea what benefit this bestows upon this culture, but as an American it drives me totally insane because just park the damn car already.

Anyway, having Fig has taught me that Crows have quite a high level ability to delay satisfaction, suppress impulsive behavior, or plan for the future, depending on how you look at what they are up to. For example, it is not at all uncommon for Fig to let herself go hungry if she knows that I am coming home soon, and I may have something yummier in tow, than what she has in her food bowl. She is quite capable of rejecting food which she likes very much when she is hungry, if she suspects we have left over roast beef still in the fridge (we never have left over roast beef because there are no regular ovens in Japan, but just for example). Her ability to suppress her hunger, her impulse to satisfy her hunger, to bet on something better is remarkably strong. And she not only stashes food, but stashes the good stuff for later, "planning for the future?" or at least saving for a rainy day. I would say these impulses are stronger than they are in humans. In fact, it seems to be a characteristic of Crows to exhibit this savings account behavior. Maybe being wispy little balls of feathers and bones is more precarious than being obese tubs of lard, and this behavior affords them a bit of needed insurance by measuring out resources over time. Hunger might kill a meesly bird in days, where plump humans could go weeks.

Anyway, this behavior got me thinking what else Crows might be delaying, suppressing, saving, in order to plan for the future. This year, three Crow families in my area have all produced only one off spring. That got me wondering if Crows exhibit the ability, for whatever reason, to do family planning? Either by culling eggs from the nest (abortion), or abandoning eggs all together for a season (infanticide), I cannot even suspect they would consider canibalism, or maybe they can even physically decide how many eggs to lay, or fertilize.  Questions, questions???? Perhaps they would do something like this due to overpopulation of their territory, or food shortage, or other environmental stress. Maybe reproductive pairs just want a break after raising 6 young the previous two years running.

I have no idea if they do this. It is just a question that occurred to me. It seems like a possibility given their natural inclination, and ability to ration food.

Mum and Dad's Amazing Devotion

Fig's Mom and Dad have recently lost a bit of interest in me. They have stopped showing up when I am off to work, or coming home. It is a good thing because it was only a matter of time before I crashed my bicycle with my head in the air. And they no longer show as much vocal interest when I am out with Fig at the park. They do circle over, and call, just not as excitedly. Fig's Dad, surprisingly, is the real interested party lately. It was for so long the mother that was the excited one, only dragging the Dad along for the show. It still absolutely astounds me the level of recognition, interest, support, and gentle love this pair still have for their daughter, two years after having lost her on her day of fledging from the nest. I mean, they know her, they think about her, they watch over her, they check on her, they are there for her, chatting, and visiting, and staying around, though they have all but utterly lost her to her injury. It is nothing short of moving, and very sweet to witness.

I usually pay attention to Fig's face when we are out, and when she cocks her head, and trains an eye, it is highly likely that I will look off in that direction and easily spot Fig's Mom and Dad sitting atop a building together, keeping a quiet, but watchful, and obviously devoted, caring and concerned eye over and on their adored, and darling daughter from afar. At the park the other day, Fig spotted her Dad off in the distance a quarter mile away silently observing her, and she dashed to the fence to chat with him, but he had gone. She was pretty upset about that. She even flew out of the park perimeter a ways in dismay over his seemingly cold shoulder. I had to console her. I don't think he meant to shun her, I think he had just checked on her, and felt satisfied she was safe, seeing we were together as usual. She very obviously still feels the need for her parent's love and support, however, so I try to get her out to chat with them to satisfy that very important need. She is very much not an adult bird just yet.

Recently I wonder about the pet Raven trade. Here are exotic birds from Africa, and other places, which are sold as babies, not yet fully fledged and reared by their parents. They've not had a chance to fully pick up nuances of their language from Mom and Pop, or siblings. They're in the middle of a tender developmental process, when suddenly the record scratches to a halt, gears switch, they are yanked from their nest, and flown off in a plane, then hello human being, you are now my mother, my father, and my siblings, though I have never seen you before. That must be a very shocking adjustment for the youngsters to make.

I've never met a true "pet" Raven as described above, but I wonder what sort of creature they must become and if they end up okay. I imagine they may become happy, and adjust to their lives with humans. And I suppose that they can be healthy to a degree, if given the opportunity to fly. But I also imagine that they must be psychologically affected by these life changing, shattering? events. I'll stop short of saying that I think they must wind up psychologically damaged, because I know they can adapt into the human world quite well, but they absolutely must end up to some degree with a lingering sense of a great unknown constantly tugging at their hearts and minds. I think of young human children who have lost their parents to war, an accident, or desease, and I can only imagine that the "pet" Raven must suffer a similar, lifelong sense of loss, wonder, and confusion which can never be completely erased, or satisfied.

Fig has very luckily been able to maintain visual, and auditory contact with her parents and siblings as she lives in her parents' homestead. She picks up and uses the local, seasonal calls of her family. She uses English to talk with me at home, but once we get outside, she uses exclusively Crow. So, to a degree, she is like the pet Ravens I worry about. She has had to adapt to a human family, but her adjustment is even more jarring, perhaps, than a pet Raven, because she was fully reared, and fledged by her parents, thus bonded with them, and her many siblings too. So, I worry very deeply over her long term happiness, and well being. Whatever will happen if, when we move? What if we go somewhere where there are no Japanese Crows for her to talk with, or listen to. Will she simply happily adjust more in the direction of human lifestyle? I think she will. I think she can. But our encounters with her parents make me realize more and more that her use, and experience with Crow language, and socializing with Crows, and listening to them and their daily activities, is something I cannot afford to suddenly and completely erase from her daily experience without expecting some serious, unexpectable consequences, and effects to Fig. I suspect she might get depressed, and anxious finding herself suddenly in a new environment without any Crow activity around her at all to listen to, watch, and participate in to the small degree that she can.

All indications are very good, now. She is definitely a happy person. She is definitely well, of body and mind. As a parent, I worry too much. That's my job. I suspect, in another year or two, Fig will have become very fully an adult. I suspect that our bond will have matured, and become established. And I am making efforts to more fully transition her into more indoor family life, in the human world; this seems to be the direction she wants to go, as she wants to be in the house, together, and shows tremendous relief, excitement, and joy upon arriving home from walks. And this is understandable, as wild Crows are not always the most cordial sort, even if they are your family. Humans on the other hand almost always have something soft to say to a bird, or some tasty food on offer.  I worry about pet Ravens, but perhaps they are okay. They are too young to remember their ordeal, their loss. Probably, they learn to communicate with and bond more fully with their human partners than a rehab bird. Fig, though, I must remember, is a wild Crow, and she has parents, and siblings, an upbringing,  and deep, very serious emotions tied to those bonds, connections, experiences and memories. It is far too late to rip her completely from her life, to be suddenly, only, exclusively a pet.

And I wonder, if one took a pet Raven to meet some wild ones, could it transition back to the wild, and if so, what behavior, attitude, manner, outlook, language, affection, habit, what aspect of human kind, for there are many good ones that come immediately to mind, as well as some bad, would that Raven possibly import to Raven culture?

I also wonder, how many would be "pet" Raven buyers out there, might consider instead, to become a caregiver for injured wildlife. I suspect, though the experience will no doubt prove much more challenging, and require a good measure more patience, that ultimately it would prove far more rewarding than purchasing a "companion bird" because not only will you be helping an injured animal to live, that animal will be teaching you (as oposed to you teaching it) many unique, and invaluable things, and bringing you, indeed all of us closer to understanding an as yet, and ever more, mysterious natural world, we find ourselves estranged from, unable to participate in, and sadly losing, almost imperceptively, incrementally day by day. Yet, we innately strive to have that connection with nature. We have a sense for an unknown unknown, as if we ourselves were torn from our parental nest in the distant past. So, why not take an adventure, on the wild side instead?



 

Mealworm Farm Update (twice)

Update 1 on mealworm farm:

I managed to get only 10 mealworm beetles. Every two weeks I put them in a new tub of food to lay eggs. So far....no sign of any baby worms. Anticipation! I want to start the experiment in 5 weeks. Not confident I'll have any reward food though. Oh dear.

Update 2 on mealworm farm:

Oooh! I am a Daddy! Baby worms gallore in the first small cup of flour and grain. Must be hundreds!
Where would the world be without procreation? Baby mealworms are insanely tiny and cute. Barely can even see them. And they are really fast compared to the regular big ones. They wriggle in and out of sight in a couple of instants. There have to be hundreds in this single cup of grain and flour. My wife was even impressed! Then she reminded me that my plan was to murder all of them. Great. I don't think feeding mealworms to a bird counts as murder. My son was so excited that he quickly asked me for some beetles so he could start his own farm. He wants to be a daddy too. I gave him all ten beetles in a new cup of flour. Will make a scientist out of him yet!

Update 3 on mealworm farm:
I gave the worms rolled barley. It appeared to me that many of them died, so I switched them to rice bran which is more nutritious anyway. They are doing fine. Slow growing buggers. Have not had any to feed Fig for a whole week now, but she's getting roast pork, and grasshoppers instead. Grasshopper season is a boon for Fig. There are two main types in Japan. I don't like to give her two many though as I don't enjoy cooking them. I don't enjoy watching her tear them limb from limb. And I really don't enjoy the balls of legs, wings, and exoskeletons Fig coughs up. Mealworms are more nutritious, not infected with internal parasites, and fully digested, apparently, as Fig doesn't cough up balls of worm leather.  

Talking to Wild Crows

I took Fig to a park we hadn't been to for months. The local Crows were very interested in Fig, probably because the resident couple had produced a large number of offspring the last two years. Young Crows have short attention spans, and give up their interest in protesting very loudly after a while. A mated couple of older Crows, on their turf, however, will fuss for a good hour over tresspassers, but they measure out their effort so they don't exhaust themselves in the short term, though they still manage a loud display. And they did. What a racket!

Long after their young brood had caught a clue and flown off for the evening roost, this pair coninued to brazenly circle overhead intermittently, and caw at Fig from a rooftop, standing side by side facing us directly. Fig does not feel the least threatened when we are together. She knows I am protecting her. She just fluffs up on a fence and preens quietly being sure to face me. She only gets fearful if the other birds circle closely.

I decided to have a bit of fun using the Crow lingo I've learned. First, I used  the caw for announcing my presence. Well they did not like that at all as it must seem incredibly sarcastic to announce your presence non challantly while standing in some one else's living room. Then I issued the call for friend. That got them really pissed off and growling. You are not our friend! Then I called out, does anyone want to chat? One of the pair answered back with an aw the tone of which was softening towards cordial. Well, her mate did not like that at all. They started bickering, and pecking and before long they were tumbling and tussling in a full on growling lover's brawl on the rooftop which went on for thirty seconds. A real full on fight. Then they returned to their post, to continue venting. But their fight had used up their last bit of energy, and they soon headed off for the night to roost in wuite a huff, at us, and at each other.

I think the worst thing you can do is show aggression towards wild Crows. Unless you enjoy being cawed at wherever you go. If you learn a few calls, its easy to  communicate that you are not threatening, and in a short time, you will see a dramatic change in how you are perceived. There is no benefit to being know as threatening. Being an acquaintance on the other hand enables you to quietly observe Crows engaging in lots of fun, entertaining activities that they won't be displaying in the presence of a threat.

This is not to say that I don't press my physical clout a bit. I do not tolerate Crows coming close to Fig. Dive bombing, growling, threatening by standing in treetops (this seems to be some sort of standard territorial proclamation stance, my tree!) etc... I will check those behaviors, but I won't push unless pushed first. This way the wild Crows learn that Fig and I are a pair, that we are not a threat, especially not her, but that we will command respect. The Crows at the other parks we frequent more often all basically ignore us now after a quick greeting, passport check. We'll see if the Crows at this park are fast learners. I'm sure they'll be reasonable like the rest. I certainly hope so because the neighbors will complain if they have to endure listening to Crows mobbing Fig everytime I go to that park.

Notes on Training

Recently, Fig has matured a bit. Two years ago, she hung on my every word. I could literally tell her a string of instructions, up to five or six, and she would prance through them instantly without a mistake or an interruption in her attention. Apparently, that was an infantile stage because she soon started getting naughtier and naughtier, to the point that I no longer let her perch on my arm when we go for walks now. She'll just take every chance to play. She enjoys dangling from her tethers. She enjoys flying up ahead. She enjoys going in the opposite direction when I instruct her to go this way (well, I've figured out the trick to fixing that one.). She's a kid. What do you expect?

It's no big deal because actually it is safer, more intimate, and more enjoyable for Fig if I carry her. Yep, like a little kid. She likes being cradled upside down, or held with her feet back, so she can nestle her head and go to sleep on my forearm. She's a total cuddle bunny. And I don't have to worry about her suddenly diving off my arm into traffic, or up a tree. I hardly have to hold her at all. I only use one hand. Petting her, and tugging her tail, or giving her a foot massage with the other. She obediently nests in my hand, feet back, feeling secure, and never tries to jump away, or up a tree. She's not even startled by Harley's as long as I'm holding her. Something about being held works for her. She won't even go to the bathroom. If she needs to go, she'll let me know with some fidgeting, but she'll hold out for a good hour walk even, though I give her much more frequent bathroom breaks than that. If she's perched on my arm, however, she'll go whenever she feels like it, and my shoulder, even worse! So carrying a Crow, is the way to go. 

Training time with Fig is actually just exercise, and play time. She and I rehearse our communication which is quite intense. She watches my eyes. I watch hers. She stands facing me. I face her. She's on the lookout in this direction, me in the other. I request her to leap up on my arm, wait there, then give her the go ahead to fly off, and direct her where to go with my eyes. It's all very tight. It feels a bit like a ballet. But the fact is, Fig is so playful, that one could hardly call her obedient, and that's fine. I'm not so interested in obedience. I just want her to get exercise, play, sun, fun, and connection. It's if we lose connection that is the real sticking point. It's the one thing I really work hard to get. And at home, in the bathroom, or out on her balcony, she's a machine. She follows every direction, every request, like we're a real team. But the minute we step outside, a whole lot of that just flies right out the window for her. I understand that. She is outside, in her element, surrounded by other birds. Who needs me? It's not like I completely disappear, she's just way seriously distracted by fear, excitement, and curiosity. Fig wants to play everywhere, on everything, and even with everyone!

Well, today's exciting news is that recently, more and more, Fig has been re-giving me that connection we used to have outside, but have only really had inside for so long. She is starting to follow indoor commands, outdoors again.. She'll get up on my shoulder, and cross to the other, switch hands to perch on, leap to a wall via a jump to my knee, leg, or arm when requested to do so. Go across my back. Follow a string of commands again. She is less distracted, more connected, and seems to be losing her once clear distinction between inside, and outside time together. It's a very welcome development.

I even barely hold her tether anymore. She just flies around dragging it behind her. She obeys the perimeters of the parks. She stops when and where I tell her. She listens intently when I tell her not to go somewhere because it's dangerous, and then doesn't go there. She won't even leap in a tree if I grumble about it. The couple of times she has, she has stayed low, and come back down at my insistence. She looks to me for approval, and generally is respectful of my wishes. It's quite amazing. 

Fig is growing up. She is still saying Ah to me on outings, and I find, as if by magic, that I get it, I understand it, more and more. It's like the human Aw kids use when they're out shopping with Mom. Aw Mom! But depending on your pitch, intonation, volume, enthusiasm, and a hundred other factors I struggle to name, it expresses your feelings, and communicates in a brief instant. I'm annoyed. You're kidding. Great! I'm thrilled! Here I am. Where are you? It can all be packed into one simple sound. I find that I can now quickly if not instantly tell if Fig is saying I see a friend, I see a threat, I see an unfamiliar object, I see a dog, I see a cat, I see my parents, I'm bored, I'm going to go over there, Here I am, are you watching me, Dad? and a whole slew of other things, and she always sees things first. Humans are nearly blind; it's a wonder we have survived this long.

That's all for now.

Fig's Development

My experience with various birds over the years has taught me some things about their development. Fig, however, is my first Crow, so a lot is new and unexpected. That's why it has been so fun to care for her.

Recently something interesting happened which gave me a small window into her young mind.  I was at the park with Fig when we heard the familiar call of her Mom and Dad who guard their territory well, and together as an effective team, though I suspect they are aging as they produced no successful young this year (well, it looked like two or three, but I don't think any survived very long after fledging, it seems like small clutches are not as likely to survive compared with bigger clutches to me) and Dad is looking a bit worn around the edges. The park we were at is outside of their territory. Worse than that, it is inside the territory of a much larger, and aggressive clan of Crows. This clan has long since become familiar with Fig, and me, and have come to tolerate our use of "their" park, for the most part. It is rare that we attract much attention these days, but that has not always been so.

Anyway, the raucous clan was not around, but Fig's parents were both devotedly perched, a little unusually, side by side close together, facing in the same direction, which is unusual for Crows on guard, on a high building roof edge, about 4-500meters away, calling loudly to Fig. They wouldn't dare to come an inch closer, and Fig wouldn't dare to leave the perimeter and familiar safety of the park, but she did move to the far corner fence and managed to have an extended yelly chat with her parents. The love, and longing in her lean towards them, in her eyes, in her calls was that of an elementary school kid having just arrived back from an eternal three weeks at summer camp, leaning out the rickety old bus window yelling, Mom, Dad! tears welling up in their eyes.

As I took Fig home, her parents joined us, leapfrogging rooftop to rooftop calling with some excitement. Now, mind you, Fig's parents are somewhat cordial to me these days, which is new, but if siblings are around, or worse, if paired siblings are about with their mates, then I get a bit of an earful, along with some tigery growling while the males show off for their girl friends/fiancees. I do not know why, but a"parent"ly, parents views do not influence the clan as a whole, or maybe they simply don't express their views to the family, but I rather was wishing and hoping that they would. No such luck so far.

A few days later we were back at that park, and Fig eventually remembered her encounter with Mom and Pop, and returned to that corner fence to excitedly "call" them, but they were out late foraging. Fig was obviously disappointed, and was pretty persistent about checking for them, but they never showed up, which is rare. She did not seem too upset, thankfully.

Anyway, it was an interesting look at the parental bond which continues to endure in spite of two years with only sporadic contact, though recently the parents frequent the spaces around Fig's balcony rather often; perhaps because they lost this years fledglings? And I got a peek through the window of Fig's mental development. She still very much remembers and loves her parents, and craves their attention, but she continues to become.a strong, healthy independent individual, so all signs are good I think. I'm so proud of this little bird; she's like a daughter to me.