I imagine many people have raised baby crows that were found on the ground fledging, injured in traffic, or orphaned. And I imagine in a majority of cases, those Crows that successfully grew up, maybe hung around for a few years with their adoptive human families before becoming sexually mature, then flew away to find a mate and live a Crow's life. I have to imagine that the number of permanently disabled Crows living with human families is pretty small, because most injuries would lead to death, or euthanasia at the hands of a vet or professional rehab center which would not usually raise a non-releasable bird, if they want to keep their license. And a vast majority of people want nothing to do with a Crow, especially an injured one. So, I suspect Fig represents a very small number of Crows who permanently reside with humans, and will do so long term.
Going a step further, Fig lives "outside" for several hours per day in her home territory, and during this time she chats with her biological mother, father and siblings from morning until night. She has done so over the last three years, and they teach her the latest seasonal catch-phrase full volume calls, as well as intimate quiet gurglings. In other words, Fig has had the opportunity to reach sexual maturity now, to fully grow up, learning and using her native language, with her biological family. I have to suspect that this set of circumstances is extremely rare, possibly unique.
Fig is a bird that fledged. She was raised by, and imprinted on wild birds. The last three years taming her has been a very long, slow process of encouragement as a result. And Fig has mainly dictated the pace of her integration. She remains very much a wild bird, but she is now very comfortable living with a human family, with a predator cat, but it has taken the full three years of incrementally developing a relationship with her, in addition to her incrementally willing her own self out of her wild shell on her own terms. On top of this challenge to suddenly integrate into a human world, Fig has had to grow up, and mature and her dependence has stunted, and warped that process. That is a lot to psychologically bear for anyone, but for a disabled, captive Crow living everyday with her real family just outside, I cannot imagine. Fig is an inspiringly strong person. She is my hero in much the same way that my son is my hero for his endurance, tolerance, and perseverences.
Recent developments are that Fig ventures more and more into common spaces, voluntarily, to explore, or seeking to socialize with us, and the cat even. Fig enjoys sitting with us at meals, during dish washing, and to watch TV, or especially to listen to music. She likes to watch a game of Chess from a shoulder, or while cuddling in a lap. Yet, she retains a highly independent side. She is still quite shy. She still prefers to be in her own space most of the time, but the balance of time towards social interaction is quickly shifting at an accelerating rate. This is great for her, but more and more demanding on me because initially she wants to socialize as a pair. I suspect in another year or two she will shift more towards socializing on her own terms, independently.
Fig is fully capable of deciding when and if she wants to socialize, and she is capable and confident enough to object if pushed. If really pushed, she can really object. You can have a very loud argument with her if you like. She will hold that perch like it's a steak dinner, growl, and bite if she does not want to be moved. But I NEVER move her forcefully, against her will. I ALWAYS respect her decision. She knows that I respect her, so if I let her bite me, it's a play bite much like your dog will do. It doesn't hurt, because she knows I'm going to relent. She knows I will let her have her way. And the second I relent, she fluffs up and I give her pets and kisses. She is earnestly saying NO, it is serious communication, and I have to listen, but she also knows that the argument is largely fictitious. I don't make a habit of arguing with Fig, but sometimes we do play argue for fun, or really argue if I need to move her and she is not inclined to cooperate right away; either way, if the argument is play, or me really asking for a bit of cooperation, it is rewarding to see how fast she instantly switches from growling to nuzzling my face. I think anyone watching would be very concerned that Fig would peck my eyes out, but her personality is as soft as a lamb, because she knows mine is as well. I am sure if I was an asshole she would maim me to the best of her abilities. She's no jerk either. She often capitulates when I suspect she would maybe rather stay put. So, in those cases I reward her with praise, or let her have her perch a while longer. But she does try to please by doing what is asked of her, so I have to be sensitive to her true feelings.
I think it is important to argue with a Crow, however, sometimes. It gives Fig confidence in herself, in me, and us. You have to have a real, full set of working emotions in any relationship. I often see wild Crows arguing. And quite often those arguments do turn temporarily physical. I have the ability to gauge the true ferocity of a Crow fight. But I NEVER get physical with Fig if we argue, I always let her win, and we always switch to kisses and nuzzles immediately after, so she consequently has tremendous confidence about objecting when she wants to stay put. I simply revisit her a few minutes later, and the chances are really good that she has completely switched her mind, in large part, I am sure, because she loves to please, just as with human kids. Kids don't want to make parents upset, so the next thing you know...Look Mom, I cleaned my room! Fig is the same. Look Dad, this time I'm coming with you!!! She loves to make me happy, because we share the joy.
Anyway, I digress...
The point I was making, is that Fig is unique, she must be, almost. I doubt there are many Crows who live with humans, yet socialize with their biological family. This makes Fig very special. It means she is bicultural, and bilingual. It means that she is an authentic Crow, who can teach us a tremendous amount especially about the complex language of Jungle Crows.
This is the challenge for me. I really want to capture, and catalog the language Fig uses. But the problem with describing this, or any language is that it often is unique to a small subset of users, in this cases, pretty much just two individuals. If you think about any language, or let's say a language class, you don't usually get to learn things such as the words "uh huh, yeah, umm..." and thousands of other examples. You only learn these things when you get off the boat in another culture, and suddenly the clear and carefully iterated Ko-ni-chi-wa you learned for hello in Japanese class, hits your ears as chiwa. And then there is every possible musical variation once attitude, tone, pitch, modulation, repetition, stutter, stall, emphasis, timing of syllables is all factored in.
The fact is, speech and language ARE musical. They are Opera. They are Hip Hop. They are Country Drawl. So one can never ever nail it down with words. Language is a slippery, slimy, living creature that evades capture but for fleeting moments, holding still only long enough to allow one to jot a few feeble, hopelessly inadequate descriptions in one's biology notebook.
I guess that is really what I want to say about Crow language, what I have realized after three years of listening to it daily, now. Crows use language. They use words. And they use musical possibilities in just the same way humans do, to enrich their vocal expressions, which express amazingly concise, and subtle nuances...their feelings, moods, and goings ons.
As I read over what I write, it all reads very much like I am listening to my inner cat lady rambling on about her cat's communications. Yes, we ought very carefully to listen to our cats too. Hmm.
Going a step further, Fig lives "outside" for several hours per day in her home territory, and during this time she chats with her biological mother, father and siblings from morning until night. She has done so over the last three years, and they teach her the latest seasonal catch-phrase full volume calls, as well as intimate quiet gurglings. In other words, Fig has had the opportunity to reach sexual maturity now, to fully grow up, learning and using her native language, with her biological family. I have to suspect that this set of circumstances is extremely rare, possibly unique.
Fig is a bird that fledged. She was raised by, and imprinted on wild birds. The last three years taming her has been a very long, slow process of encouragement as a result. And Fig has mainly dictated the pace of her integration. She remains very much a wild bird, but she is now very comfortable living with a human family, with a predator cat, but it has taken the full three years of incrementally developing a relationship with her, in addition to her incrementally willing her own self out of her wild shell on her own terms. On top of this challenge to suddenly integrate into a human world, Fig has had to grow up, and mature and her dependence has stunted, and warped that process. That is a lot to psychologically bear for anyone, but for a disabled, captive Crow living everyday with her real family just outside, I cannot imagine. Fig is an inspiringly strong person. She is my hero in much the same way that my son is my hero for his endurance, tolerance, and perseverences.
Recent developments are that Fig ventures more and more into common spaces, voluntarily, to explore, or seeking to socialize with us, and the cat even. Fig enjoys sitting with us at meals, during dish washing, and to watch TV, or especially to listen to music. She likes to watch a game of Chess from a shoulder, or while cuddling in a lap. Yet, she retains a highly independent side. She is still quite shy. She still prefers to be in her own space most of the time, but the balance of time towards social interaction is quickly shifting at an accelerating rate. This is great for her, but more and more demanding on me because initially she wants to socialize as a pair. I suspect in another year or two she will shift more towards socializing on her own terms, independently.
Fig is fully capable of deciding when and if she wants to socialize, and she is capable and confident enough to object if pushed. If really pushed, she can really object. You can have a very loud argument with her if you like. She will hold that perch like it's a steak dinner, growl, and bite if she does not want to be moved. But I NEVER move her forcefully, against her will. I ALWAYS respect her decision. She knows that I respect her, so if I let her bite me, it's a play bite much like your dog will do. It doesn't hurt, because she knows I'm going to relent. She knows I will let her have her way. And the second I relent, she fluffs up and I give her pets and kisses. She is earnestly saying NO, it is serious communication, and I have to listen, but she also knows that the argument is largely fictitious. I don't make a habit of arguing with Fig, but sometimes we do play argue for fun, or really argue if I need to move her and she is not inclined to cooperate right away; either way, if the argument is play, or me really asking for a bit of cooperation, it is rewarding to see how fast she instantly switches from growling to nuzzling my face. I think anyone watching would be very concerned that Fig would peck my eyes out, but her personality is as soft as a lamb, because she knows mine is as well. I am sure if I was an asshole she would maim me to the best of her abilities. She's no jerk either. She often capitulates when I suspect she would maybe rather stay put. So, in those cases I reward her with praise, or let her have her perch a while longer. But she does try to please by doing what is asked of her, so I have to be sensitive to her true feelings.
I think it is important to argue with a Crow, however, sometimes. It gives Fig confidence in herself, in me, and us. You have to have a real, full set of working emotions in any relationship. I often see wild Crows arguing. And quite often those arguments do turn temporarily physical. I have the ability to gauge the true ferocity of a Crow fight. But I NEVER get physical with Fig if we argue, I always let her win, and we always switch to kisses and nuzzles immediately after, so she consequently has tremendous confidence about objecting when she wants to stay put. I simply revisit her a few minutes later, and the chances are really good that she has completely switched her mind, in large part, I am sure, because she loves to please, just as with human kids. Kids don't want to make parents upset, so the next thing you know...Look Mom, I cleaned my room! Fig is the same. Look Dad, this time I'm coming with you!!! She loves to make me happy, because we share the joy.
Anyway, I digress...
The point I was making, is that Fig is unique, she must be, almost. I doubt there are many Crows who live with humans, yet socialize with their biological family. This makes Fig very special. It means she is bicultural, and bilingual. It means that she is an authentic Crow, who can teach us a tremendous amount especially about the complex language of Jungle Crows.
This is the challenge for me. I really want to capture, and catalog the language Fig uses. But the problem with describing this, or any language is that it often is unique to a small subset of users, in this cases, pretty much just two individuals. If you think about any language, or let's say a language class, you don't usually get to learn things such as the words "uh huh, yeah, umm..." and thousands of other examples. You only learn these things when you get off the boat in another culture, and suddenly the clear and carefully iterated Ko-ni-chi-wa you learned for hello in Japanese class, hits your ears as chiwa. And then there is every possible musical variation once attitude, tone, pitch, modulation, repetition, stutter, stall, emphasis, timing of syllables is all factored in.
The fact is, speech and language ARE musical. They are Opera. They are Hip Hop. They are Country Drawl. So one can never ever nail it down with words. Language is a slippery, slimy, living creature that evades capture but for fleeting moments, holding still only long enough to allow one to jot a few feeble, hopelessly inadequate descriptions in one's biology notebook.
I guess that is really what I want to say about Crow language, what I have realized after three years of listening to it daily, now. Crows use language. They use words. And they use musical possibilities in just the same way humans do, to enrich their vocal expressions, which express amazingly concise, and subtle nuances...their feelings, moods, and goings ons.
As I read over what I write, it all reads very much like I am listening to my inner cat lady rambling on about her cat's communications. Yes, we ought very carefully to listen to our cats too. Hmm.
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