Real learning means tackling something about which you have no knowledge, making mistakes, and confronting the fear of utter failure. It is terrifying and exhilerating, and terrifying. It is also terrifying and terrifying. This is what it is like, for me, walking Fig.
Fig is what is called a passage bird. My understanding is that this means that she was raised in the nest by her parents and family, to fledge (first flight). I saw her fall from my building when she fledged. This means that I found her at about 5 weeks of age, and she had already imprinted completely on birds, that humans would be naturally feared. We are.
Passage birds have had a "primary school education" from birds, and as such, they have a level of independence that birds raised from a younger age do not acquire. It makes them much safer out in the world being naturally reared, presuming that they can fly in the end, but when they cannot fly, it presents their caretakers with a serious challenge, because taming them is easy enough, but getting them to trust you and bond with you enough that they can and will follow instructions reliably, and stay safe, for their own sake, is not. Fig thinks she can hop all over town, and fend for herself. She can not. Especially in early spring, other Crows are very territorial and aggressive. And there are predators about, on the ground, and in the air. And there are endless hazards, not least of which is Fig herself.
I take her out with tethers on her legs. Sometimes she doesn't pay them any attention, but other times she hates them. She has been untethered many times, but recently she is more adventurous with breeding season, so I tether her always when we go out. Tethers are very dangerous for an animal that is healthy, but much more dangerous for one that is already handicapable as Fig is. She is her own worst enemy at times, especially when she is hyper, playful, or naughty which is most of the time. She loves to play "chase"; she wants me to chase her around. She loves to be disobedient, going off somewhere when I told her to go somewhere else. And she gets very excited outside, and has a hard time containing that excitement. All of these things make it very difficult to maintain control over her; she IS a two year old toddler. I expect things will become less crazy as she ages, if she continues to cheat death, but it is nerve racking trying to give an injured bird, with legs as thin as pencils, but hollow, a bit of quality time at the park, when she wants to run about like she owns the place.
The other day was a typical outing, with a few highlights, which is also typical. There are always lows and highs to every outing with Fig. Getting her home safely is never guaranteed, but getting her outside is required. A Crow cannot be caged, contained, full time. She needs to get out for 1-3 hours 2-3 times per week minimum. During the week, I do not always have that time, so there are times when I take her to the park late in the afternoon when it is getting dark, something she hates, but the park is well lit, and she is a bit better behaved in the dimmer light. Also, we don't have to worry about hawks, which out number owls around here, only the feral cats, which are a pretty cowardly crew, and easy to spot.
Fig likes to fly, and will spend an hour or more taking short flights. She can only manage about 5-6 meters, at a 45degree down glide. If I toss her up in the air, or hold her up high, she gets a start from 8-9 feet, and can manage 7-8 meters and pick up a lot of speed which she then manages to translate into a horizontal glide of another 6-7 meters on the pressure wave just above the surface of the ground. Flying is hard on her, as is landing. She works up a good pant, and her bad wing hangs a bit more than usual after a while. She is the one choosing to fly; I do not make her do it. If she gets really tired she will limit herself to shorter flights, and dash around on the ground instead, or perch and preen. She loves being chased, and she's quite good at hiding behind trees, or skipping along at a good pace. She understands exactly what, "I'm gonna get you." means.
Sometimes Fig lets me decide when she will take off and where she's going to go, other times she decides when and where. It is frustrating, but I have to remember, it's not training, and it's not handling which are the most important thing, it's playing together. There has to be give and take because if I control too much, that simply turns up the volume on rascalliness. I am learning as I go, and it is slow going. There's no way around it; it is exactly the same as human parenting.
Even though Fig is a child herself, she seems to understand what human children are. She interacts with them more readily, and has less fear of them. The other day I was talking to some elementary school kids, and telling them a little about Crows. They could not believe that Fig had a word for water (Awa), food, friend, etc... So I said to Fig, Awa, knowing that she was thirsty after her exercise time, and she immediately perked up, as if to say, Ooh, good idea! Then she flew across the playground, and jumped up on the water fountain. The kids just stood there amazed while she guzzled down some water. So did I. I was not expecting that.
There is an old man who comes to exercise at the park every night. Fig recognizes him. When he takes his after exercise sit down break, she always runs across the park, jumps up on the back of his bench, fluffs up, and preens herself like crazy right next to his head. He'll usually scoot over a bit. He is an unusually good sport. She really likes him, and it shows. She is offering him a bit of company. He is a nice guy. He always talks to her, and looks at her very fondly, so Fig is obviously a good judge of character, and quite capable of making friends.
I can simply gesture to Fig, shall we go play over there, and if she wants to, she's off in that direction. If she doesn't, there is no making her go. She has a plan with a long list of things to jump on, places to hop, places to preen, perches to visit, walls to mount and run along, trees to sit in, picnic tables to climb on, roots to roost on, poles to hide behind, trees to run around...it is a long, impulsive, compulsive, neurotic list of things to do at the playground before she will agree to going home peaceful and satisfied.
Lately, she is very affectionate too. The school kids said Pet Pet, as I instructed them to do before petting her, and she goes right along, and puts her head way down so they can give her a good neck scratch. If I let strange adults pet her, she may yell at me later very seriously at home, but she has no qualms with little kids petting her.
On our way home, Fig likes to ride upside down in one hand, while she holds onto my shirt with both feet, or in my jacket if it is cold. She is happy to be going home, and she does not complain about being cradled in the least. She knows where we are, and exactly how long it is going to take. She knows when we have arrived home. She happily plays with the tether ropes, and enjoys the bouncey walk home. She loves having her legs and body massaged, and even lets me gently hold her by the tail feathers these days. She'd have squawked up a storm about that only months ago.
When we get home, I have to remove the tethers, it is the last of many hazards Fig and I faced, as she is anxious to get them off, be free again, and on her familiar perch. I'm not able to relax until I see her back on that perch unharmed. Then she has a shower, and a face wash, and after all that attention and exercise, she is a tired, but a very happy bird. She actually says, "I love you." to me in English after walks, after food, after a shower, at appropriate times. She knows what it means, and she uses "I love you." generously in earnest.
I'm just glad she didn't fly into something, break a leg, sprain a wing, get attacked by a cat or a dog, lose an eye to a tree branch, or some other hazard.
This Crow is young, high strung, and yes, wild, in every sense of the word. As I crouch in the park, with her happily preening on my arm, I am all too aware, that she is a delicate, fragile animal, with a dare devil personality, hell bent on living on the edge, one moment to the next. I'm doing my best to ensure no harm comes her way, but I don't kid myself, it could happen. Fig and I have a long way still to go. We are not yet a well oiled machine. Both of us are learning.
Fig is what is called a passage bird. My understanding is that this means that she was raised in the nest by her parents and family, to fledge (first flight). I saw her fall from my building when she fledged. This means that I found her at about 5 weeks of age, and she had already imprinted completely on birds, that humans would be naturally feared. We are.
Passage birds have had a "primary school education" from birds, and as such, they have a level of independence that birds raised from a younger age do not acquire. It makes them much safer out in the world being naturally reared, presuming that they can fly in the end, but when they cannot fly, it presents their caretakers with a serious challenge, because taming them is easy enough, but getting them to trust you and bond with you enough that they can and will follow instructions reliably, and stay safe, for their own sake, is not. Fig thinks she can hop all over town, and fend for herself. She can not. Especially in early spring, other Crows are very territorial and aggressive. And there are predators about, on the ground, and in the air. And there are endless hazards, not least of which is Fig herself.
I take her out with tethers on her legs. Sometimes she doesn't pay them any attention, but other times she hates them. She has been untethered many times, but recently she is more adventurous with breeding season, so I tether her always when we go out. Tethers are very dangerous for an animal that is healthy, but much more dangerous for one that is already handicapable as Fig is. She is her own worst enemy at times, especially when she is hyper, playful, or naughty which is most of the time. She loves to play "chase"; she wants me to chase her around. She loves to be disobedient, going off somewhere when I told her to go somewhere else. And she gets very excited outside, and has a hard time containing that excitement. All of these things make it very difficult to maintain control over her; she IS a two year old toddler. I expect things will become less crazy as she ages, if she continues to cheat death, but it is nerve racking trying to give an injured bird, with legs as thin as pencils, but hollow, a bit of quality time at the park, when she wants to run about like she owns the place.
The other day was a typical outing, with a few highlights, which is also typical. There are always lows and highs to every outing with Fig. Getting her home safely is never guaranteed, but getting her outside is required. A Crow cannot be caged, contained, full time. She needs to get out for 1-3 hours 2-3 times per week minimum. During the week, I do not always have that time, so there are times when I take her to the park late in the afternoon when it is getting dark, something she hates, but the park is well lit, and she is a bit better behaved in the dimmer light. Also, we don't have to worry about hawks, which out number owls around here, only the feral cats, which are a pretty cowardly crew, and easy to spot.
Fig likes to fly, and will spend an hour or more taking short flights. She can only manage about 5-6 meters, at a 45degree down glide. If I toss her up in the air, or hold her up high, she gets a start from 8-9 feet, and can manage 7-8 meters and pick up a lot of speed which she then manages to translate into a horizontal glide of another 6-7 meters on the pressure wave just above the surface of the ground. Flying is hard on her, as is landing. She works up a good pant, and her bad wing hangs a bit more than usual after a while. She is the one choosing to fly; I do not make her do it. If she gets really tired she will limit herself to shorter flights, and dash around on the ground instead, or perch and preen. She loves being chased, and she's quite good at hiding behind trees, or skipping along at a good pace. She understands exactly what, "I'm gonna get you." means.
Sometimes Fig lets me decide when she will take off and where she's going to go, other times she decides when and where. It is frustrating, but I have to remember, it's not training, and it's not handling which are the most important thing, it's playing together. There has to be give and take because if I control too much, that simply turns up the volume on rascalliness. I am learning as I go, and it is slow going. There's no way around it; it is exactly the same as human parenting.
Even though Fig is a child herself, she seems to understand what human children are. She interacts with them more readily, and has less fear of them. The other day I was talking to some elementary school kids, and telling them a little about Crows. They could not believe that Fig had a word for water (Awa), food, friend, etc... So I said to Fig, Awa, knowing that she was thirsty after her exercise time, and she immediately perked up, as if to say, Ooh, good idea! Then she flew across the playground, and jumped up on the water fountain. The kids just stood there amazed while she guzzled down some water. So did I. I was not expecting that.
There is an old man who comes to exercise at the park every night. Fig recognizes him. When he takes his after exercise sit down break, she always runs across the park, jumps up on the back of his bench, fluffs up, and preens herself like crazy right next to his head. He'll usually scoot over a bit. He is an unusually good sport. She really likes him, and it shows. She is offering him a bit of company. He is a nice guy. He always talks to her, and looks at her very fondly, so Fig is obviously a good judge of character, and quite capable of making friends.
I can simply gesture to Fig, shall we go play over there, and if she wants to, she's off in that direction. If she doesn't, there is no making her go. She has a plan with a long list of things to jump on, places to hop, places to preen, perches to visit, walls to mount and run along, trees to sit in, picnic tables to climb on, roots to roost on, poles to hide behind, trees to run around...it is a long, impulsive, compulsive, neurotic list of things to do at the playground before she will agree to going home peaceful and satisfied.
Lately, she is very affectionate too. The school kids said Pet Pet, as I instructed them to do before petting her, and she goes right along, and puts her head way down so they can give her a good neck scratch. If I let strange adults pet her, she may yell at me later very seriously at home, but she has no qualms with little kids petting her.
On our way home, Fig likes to ride upside down in one hand, while she holds onto my shirt with both feet, or in my jacket if it is cold. She is happy to be going home, and she does not complain about being cradled in the least. She knows where we are, and exactly how long it is going to take. She knows when we have arrived home. She happily plays with the tether ropes, and enjoys the bouncey walk home. She loves having her legs and body massaged, and even lets me gently hold her by the tail feathers these days. She'd have squawked up a storm about that only months ago.
When we get home, I have to remove the tethers, it is the last of many hazards Fig and I faced, as she is anxious to get them off, be free again, and on her familiar perch. I'm not able to relax until I see her back on that perch unharmed. Then she has a shower, and a face wash, and after all that attention and exercise, she is a tired, but a very happy bird. She actually says, "I love you." to me in English after walks, after food, after a shower, at appropriate times. She knows what it means, and she uses "I love you." generously in earnest.
I'm just glad she didn't fly into something, break a leg, sprain a wing, get attacked by a cat or a dog, lose an eye to a tree branch, or some other hazard.
This Crow is young, high strung, and yes, wild, in every sense of the word. As I crouch in the park, with her happily preening on my arm, I am all too aware, that she is a delicate, fragile animal, with a dare devil personality, hell bent on living on the edge, one moment to the next. I'm doing my best to ensure no harm comes her way, but I don't kid myself, it could happen. Fig and I have a long way still to go. We are not yet a well oiled machine. Both of us are learning.
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