Thanks Sis!

Thanks to my sister-in-law for this super photo of a Crow at sundown.

This composition shows the "wild" bird, observing the miniscule, pathetic city, receding back into the earth, in contrast with nature's mighty,  sky-scraping tree. The ominous clouds, pink from the setting sun, foreshadow the demise of our doomed artificial lifestyle. That's my cynical take anyway.

Otherwise, it is just a photo beautifully capturing the eloquent simplicity of the connection between life and the physical universe we've managed to spring forth within. 

Nice work Mimi!

A Few Pics

It's a jungle gym out there!

Twilight blue and purple hues in Fig's plumage.

 

 After a hard day of Miss miss-behaving at the park, Fig puts her feet up, literally.

I got this odd shot by pure chance. That isn't Fig's head, it's just the color and shape of the tree which looks just like a Crow's head! Too weird!!!

Messing Around with Movies

Fig is attacking her tethers to the beat. Just a chance, silly thing that happened while messing around with a movie app.

Jungle What?

Actually, they're Jungle Gym Crows.

Fig cannot resist anything that offers a perching opportunity. She now flies all the way home on her own on our way home from walks by "flying," skipping, and hopping from perching spot to perching spot, if I let her. I used to be able to walk around with her on my arm, but now I carry her like a baby upside down, which she likes thankfully, and will endure for 30minutes or more without complaint. Otherwise she's playing too much where cars and bicycles roam wildly.

 

Girls Day In

After almost two years, my wife finally overcame her fear of Crows/Fig. She's naturally very patient, gentle, and respectful towards animals, and always earns high respect from them for that, but I thought this day might never come. She has started playing with Fig, and bringing her inside on her own all of a sudden! Fig even told her, I love you, over and over again. I have to give Fig credit too though, as she's the one who initiated play, and remained calm and trusting enough to be transported inside by someone who never handled her before. When I came home today, Fig was even happier than usual, for having made a new play friend, and closer connection. Scientists need to figure out how exactly birds manage to smile, and have such a colorful repertoire of facial expressions. Here is  the photo my wife took after playing with Fig, and bringing her in for the very first time on her own. You can see she's quite beaming, and satisfied with herself, too, about having made ground socially. And she's improved a lot over her fear of iPhones, as you can see, totally relaxed, foot up and everything. Bravo ladies!

You may have noticed that Fig's tethers are removable. She actually enjoys wearing permanent tethers, but I feel it may be safer to have them removed when she goes unsupervised. I am happy to share the design I use with anyone interested. They are very easy to put on and take off once the bird is well trained. They are suitable for Crows in particular as the design is intended to stifle their uncanny Houdini-like ability to escape from knots, loops, and pretty much any constraint. 

Just a recent pic...more to come.

It is easy to tell when Fig is very sleepy; here you can see, she has dried off after her nightly shower and face wash, and is now very sleepy, and totally zoned out, staring blankly, cuddling her favorite bit of plastic jump rope as always. She is quite plump, having been fattened up a bit over the winter with more fat in her diet to endure the cold better with only one wing able to fully retract. Her neck feathers are clean, fluffy, and thick. Time to dim the lights for an hour before popping her into her insulated sleeping box for the night. I am planning to post many pics and videos soon. So far I haven't because I wanted to focus on recording what I have been learning about caring for this bird, and honestly, I have worried that she would never get this far, but I feel I have a better sense for how to care for her now, so perhaps I should be more optimistic.

What's It Like Walking a Crow

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.




 

Feeding a Crow

Feeding Fig is one of the most challenging things I've ever tried to do in my life. It's a fulltime parental obsession, because I try and balance her diet, introduce new things, and encourage Fig to finish her food, and eat things she may not immediately like right off the bat, just as I do with my son. She has cultivated a very omnivorous palate and she does try to get positive feedback by eating stuff which she may decide to toss aside without my praises. People keep saying to me, Crows can eat garbage! But this is not true.

In Japan people have large traps in their kitchen sinks to catch trimmings and waste; disposals are very rare. The Crows target these piles of food, and they pick through them very very meticulously to find the tiniest scraps of skin, fish, meat, tofu, vegetables, especially with seeds, and many things that are anything but garbage. They do not simply gorge on garbage. And while you may see what you interpret as gorging, that is likely a rushed "swallow" which will be taken somewhere more private for sorting. Crows usually gorge, fly off, regurgitate, sort, and then once tasty morsels are "eaten", those are taken to water where they are washed, then, finally eaten. So, no, Crows do not eat garbage, they very meticulously extract edible food from it.

And people keep asking me, but isn't a Crow messy? Well, not really. Fig goes to the bathroom in the same place, and she even knows how to stash away extra food in Tupperware. Below you can see she has neatly stashed her extra omelette back into an egg shell (below).

What's interesting about this picture to me is that Fig had several types of food available to her as she usually does every day. On this day she had this egg and tofu omelette, brown rice cereal flakes, white bread, dry cat food, a small bit of cooked fish, meal worms, two kinds of fruit, peanuts, and slice of steamed egg plant. But Fig chose to cram only the egg back into the eggshell. She often will cache her favorite food, and eat the less tasty fare first, same as kids who might eat all their broccoli and save their meat for last, or kids who save Halloween candy for months on end. So really, humans are the messy ones. We leave a trail of waste wherever we go.

The one thing that does drive me a bit crazy is the caching. Fig will wet food, and mush it into paste, then she'll use the paste to cram gaps, cracks, patterns, textures, overhangs, holes, folds, and any unseen place full of food. She is very very good at finding places that are difficult to see, difficult to even imagine might be there to begin with. If she hid your Easter eggs, you would never find them. When I clean her living space, I'm like a jail warden trying to find that one piece of old contraband chicken liver she has stuffed into the cap of her toothpaste, or the spring of her bed. It's a total shakedown.

In fact, Fig has special perches to accommodate her need to cache food. The perches are rolled in fleece fabric, to protect her foot pads from lots of jumping around. The fabric is rolled around the perch, then zip tied at intervals. Fig caches food under her perches, in the "pockets" between zip ties. This prevents her caching food in hard to clean places, as I simply remove the fabric and launder it once a week. I can also collect old food, and stash healthy treats when she's not looking, and keep her healthier. If I wrap the fabric in such a way that no pockets form, Fig will tear holes in the fabric to cache food. Providing the cache pockets prevents her from destroying her perch covers.

Fig likes tomatoes and oranges, and when she eats those she shakes her head back and forth wildly to clean her beak. So, walls can quickly look like a murder scene. Cutting foods in ways that facilitate easy consumption without flailing is an art.

Feeding a Crow is harder than people might think. The act of feeding is a powerful bonding tool, so I try and feed Fig by hand as much as I can. She is okay with by hand, I mean, she will come and get it, but she is not really a from hand sort, unless the portion is tiny. She wants take out. That's just instinct. She can't relax and eat with others breathing down her neck, eyeballing her grub. I try and offer both take out, and eat from my hand, or from a cup while perched on my hand. Both activities build trust, and bond. It's important that Fig feel like we are eating "together", and that I am helping her find food, otherwise she quickly picks up that I am manipulating her for my own affection needs. When I give her food in a cup, I usually offer to help her down to the cup from her perch, and she always graciously accepts a lift down, because I don't steal a kiss or a pet. If I did, she'd opt out. Crows require a lot of respect compared to more affection hungry parrots in my experience. It's not that they are not, cannot be affectionate, it's more that affection has its own time blocks, and they are totally separate from the eating time block. Totally. However, by making eating time, feeding time, affection, bond, trust, connection can magically enter into the scenario.

Compare these:
Mealworms in a cup. Crow jumps down to eat on its own.
Mealworms in a cup. You help the Crow jump down gently.
Mealworms in a cup. Crow comes to perch on you while eating from the cup you are holding.
Mealworms one by one. Crow comes once, and leaves with one worm in beak. Eats on perch. Repeat.
Mealworms tossed as a catch game.
Mealworms handed on a flat hand.

Looking at these, the first is cold, and no benefit, the bird eats like this when you are not there.
The second is good because it builds trust, respect, and food association.
All the others are less than good because they employ control, or intrusion. There is a better way.

I recommend using a bowl or deep plate with oatmeal or bran in it. Hide mealworms in the cereal. Stand near the Crow, with one arm conveniently up horizontal. Pick through the cereal, looking for the worms. Let the Crow come near the bowl or plate and allow it to naturally forage with you. Stand a bit further back, and let the bird decide if it will perch on you to forage in the dish. The dynamic in this scenario is the best for teaching true trust, and food/handler association. Foraging together forms a genuine bond, and teamwork dynamic, employing an activity which is completely natural to the bird. For the human, feeding an animal in this way is like being at the dinner table with family. Everyone is eating, but the togetherness, and conversation are as memorable as the food. Animals need togetherness, and conversation over their meals too.

Like Father Like Son

My son, who is now eight years old, gradually takes more interest in Fig. He loves having his evening shower with her, talking to her, tossing her food, watching her vigorously shaking out her feathers noisily before a preen. But lately he asks to come out at exercise time because he wants her to perch on his arm. He has managed to pick her up with his forearm from mine, or from the ground, but he is too scared of Figgy's nibbles to offer her his soft, tender little hand, which still has the quality of a chubby marshmallow. So I suspect it will be another year or two yet before I manage to turn him into a calm, assertive bird whisperer. It is fun teaching him consistency, and expressive meaningful, easily understood gestures and eye contact with Fig. Speaking of Fig, she has a natural affinity for children, and no fear of them whatever, as long as she is outside. She has my son's number though. If he does something unsatisfactorily, she very confidently balks. Anyway, I am thrilled he wants to have a go at handling. I think perhaps I will teach him to play on Fig's balcony first, then get a couple of chairs or small tables for outside. Fig loves jumping perch to perch on her balcony using a human as her stepping stone. I have yet to try this play outside however as I need to manage the tether safely, but now that my son has volunteered, I think the two of them could have endless fun, Fig jumping between tables with my son providing various bridges for her. Exercise, and play are vital to bonding. I could never give my son or Figgy enough. 

I'm Family! ?

I took Fig out to the park yesterday on her tethers.  She hates them recently, anew. Perhaps because I replaced all the parts, so she thinks she has a new chance to play Houdini. The minute I bring them out, and she sees them, she starts dodging about, though not really in earnest. I mean, she still comes to me, of her choice, and submits to having them attached to her legs. If she didn't come, I wouldn't take her out, and I think she knows this very well. Though she plays with the tethers no end to drive me insane.  The best I can tell, she is very excited to be going out, but not so thrilled to be leashed. And while she hates those tethers, she loves tugging on them, holding them, and attacking them like a dog at a rope.  I think she cannot contain her excitement so it all pours out at those poor restraints. I think the hate is real, but she also has a level of inntelligent understanding about why she needs them. If she really detested them utterly, she is quite capable of chewing them off in a matter of minutes; I know this because I have made her umpteen toys from identical materials which she totally shreds to tatters, but she never does her restraints the least bit of damage, and they last the whole year in good shape. Recently, she  hates me for putting them on her too, apparently. I'll explain soon.

Usually, when we first go out, she is very flighty and excited, so I control her very well, to prevent injury at first. Then, I immediately let her perch on her own for thirty minutes. This is a usual adjustment period to the outdoor environment which is exciting, very scary for her, dangerous and represents a chance to have a bit of freedom, which I used to allow her to enjoy, though no longer, sadly, and certainly not in nesting season when other Crows are fiercely territorial.  She needs a minimum of 15 minutes to relax, and refocus on handling. Trying to handle her without a proper adjustment break is a big injury risk; she is just too flighty, excited, rascally, playful, and rambunctious/naughty. A year ago she sprained a toe horsing around on her own, leaping about on rocks. Yes, she is naughty, just like a hyperactive child. So. I must give her time alone, to reflect, and rediscover me. After she fluffs, sustains eye contact, or lowers her head to invite affection, I start to trust her a bit. When I do start handling her again, I always let her choose to come to me or not, and I'm glad she almost always decides to come, then, having perched on my hand, I'll permit her to choose the game. She is quite capable of indicating what's fun, or boring. Sometimes she just wants cuddles and kisses. The thing I try at all costs to avoid is to let her do something to mock me. Crows are hard wired to mock authority. She does this deliverately by disobeying a suggestion. When she does this I ignore it; it is just too much fun for her to misbehave, so if she is going to, I'll simply allow it, and pretend it didn't bother me. I try hard to make my authority as unapparent as feasible, but there is a certain amount of assertive leadership required at times to rein in her relentless playfulness.

Anyway, yesterday, for the first time ever, Fig did not announce herself when family flew over. She looked up, heard their calls, and ignored them. It was a clear slight to them. Her face said it all with a fleeting, non challance.  I don't care about you guys any more.  Could she be angry about their attack on her last Spring nesting season? Is she actually aware of the time of year? She listens to her family every day, so certainly she hears what they are up to, building nests, or what not. A few members of her family perched on buildings, and watched us silently for an hour at sundown. As I played with Fig, tossing her, letting her leap across my knee, or the various exercises we do, something odd was going on. Every time I went to pick her up, she chose to jump to my hand, but before doing so, she cawed once at me, loudly, and deliberately, with eye contact. And the caw she cawed was, "stranger!". She has not directed this call at me before, and she kept saying it with each retrieval. Yet, she was affectionate, and fairly well behaved. The best I can guess, is that she was saying, I hate you, much the same way that a child might say those words to a parent, while tagging along behind on the way to the car. So, while the words stung, and resonated it was also not lost on me that Fig was telling me, in no uncertain terms, that she considers me her real family now. At least, I'm the one she talks to.

Update: Took Fig out again yesterday afternoon just to check if things were as they seemed over the weekend. Again, when her family flew overhead, returning to roost for the evening, she just glanced at them, did not call, or answer calls, and returned her attention to me, and handling. She was quite chattery up close too, uncharacteristically so; usually that is something she does in the house, or in her enclosure during play, a meal, or a bath, in more familiar and intimate settings. She only Ha-ed at me once half heartedly before opting for chattering, and soft mimicking. Obviously, our bond has strengthened.

These are fruits of my labor I will gladly receive because I work very hard caring for this delicate disabled bird every day. A bit of confidence in our relationship, and my standing in it is a welcome addition to my usual heart full of worries, and doubts. Am I beginning to foresee a day when Fig and I are interacting on more equal terms, able to focus as a team on play, and interaction? I hope.

Update: I'm thinking the Ha! I'm getting is different than the Ha! issued to strangers now. My slow ear is picking up a difference. The stranger word goes up in stress slightly, and is called out, with a downward tail pump. The call I get is straight, or slightly down, and flat, not energetic. Very subtle difference. 

Stage Fright

Thanks to a friend, Fig has an opportunity to possibly appear in a National Geographic channel show on animals. They want to show interesting behaviors such as talking (in human language) or puzzle solving, things like that.

I find those things very interesting, but personally they are not as intriguing as a Crow's ability to communicate. I think by far the most interesting thing about the Crow is their ability to listen, learn, and apply what they learned by listening. This makes them like us.  In the other direction, it is very interesting that they can play with us, and during play, they will suggest what they would like to do. Catching that sort of thing on film will be very hard. Finally, I think it is very important to show the Crow's natural gentle, affectionate side, because that will soften people's fear, and loathing.

It is good to show people that Crows are smart, and interesting, BUT  I want to be very careful not to send the wrong message, that Crows make good pets. Because they don't. Crow intelligence may be cool, but Crows are like children. You can put them on a schedule, but you cannot break their routine, or abandon them to go on vacation. If a Crow bonds with you, that animal is your child. For this reason they are the most terrible choice for a pet. The utter worst. There is no convenience. If I come home late, Fig will go through all the emotions that a child goes through, worry, panic, fear, sadness, anger, anxiety, depression, and eventually she will start abusing herself. If I left on vacation, she would not last two days. She would be a total wreck. Would your kids be cool, left at school? Same thing.

I have only a few days to try and capture the things I think have the most educational value to the public, and for Crows' welfare. And Fig has a serious phobia of my iPhone, and cameramen. I am going to need to disguise the phone and trick her somehow.

Wish me luck. See you on TV...maybe.

Update: Oh dear. Long story short. For the first six months I had Fig, I was helping her learn her local Crow lingo by showing her movies of Japanese Crows from around the neighborhood in her family. At the time she really enjoyed watching those very much, perhaps they helped her remain connected. How much she learned from videos is probably insignificant though. Anyway, over time, she became more and more estranged from her family, and last breeding season she was viciously attacked by them as an outsider. Thankfully she was not injured, but after that attack she decided that the Crows she had been watching on my iPhone were to be feared. She would not even let me make movies of her any more. I tried to film her for this TV program by disguising the camera, but she remembered the eye of the camera which was the only thing visible to her, and she felt stressed by it, and started picking at her leg feathers on one leg. This is a typical stress reaction for her. She has not done it for almost a year, so it was a pretty good indication that the camera was what stressed her out. Anyway, I need a bit of time to reintroduce the camera to Figgy, and build some positive associations with it, otherwise I am going to have a Crow with one bald thigh. This should not take too long, but I had to take a raincheck on her educational debut.

Update: I am reconditioning Fig's association with the camera. Everyday, I introduce the camera to her, then feed her several meal worms while filming. She loves meal worms and this is the only time she gets them. It seems to be working. Also, I am avoiding letting her see the display side. She still picks anxiously at her leg, not removing any feathers, but already her camera anxiety seems to be waning. Food is a wonderful tool. I never could have held a camera so close previously, I got a bad scare the other day though. I found a wet object on the floor which looked exactly like a yanked patch of leg feathers with skin!!!!!! Phew, turned out it was only a leafy cherry tomato top. Fig had plucked the leaves in half leaving flat ends. That just about gave me a heart attack.

Update: Camera reconditioning coming along. Fig now looks at my phone and immediately switches her mind to immagining scrumptious mealworms. She reaches down to touch her legs from occasionally, but has not pulled out any feathers. I have even been playing her wild crow calls again without freaking her out in the least. Fast progress.

My Perspective

I live in Kyushu, Japan, presently.
Of 619 species of birds in Japan, 398 species of birds live in Kyushu at least part of the year.

I have cared for one injured Jungle Crow for two years. I see and interact with her everyday.
And I have only scratched the surface; I am just beginning to understand this one individual, from 398 species, a tiny, little bit. I have managed to maybe, maybe, begin to understand a dozen things she says.

If we assume that 398 species each has a dozen things to say, an estimate which must be a sure thing for a serious underestimate award, then that makes 4,776 calls going on around us 24/7 which most of us ornithologist wannabes know nest to nothing about. (Did you catch that?) And that is just the modest island of Kyushu, on our great big world!

If we assume it takes an average Joe 2 years to become "conversational" in any single, foreign bird's basic lingo (utilizing only freetime) then to come to know all 398 birds equally well, would take 796 years! I will be lucky if I can live to a hundred.

The reason I am writing this, is because I want anyone reading this blog to understand, that while what I am doing, caring for an injured wild bird, is illegal, I do appreciate the incredible opportunity that has literally fallen out of the sky before me, and I am trying not to squander it.

The chance to know a wild animal, for a modern domestic human (my wife may argue my choice of words) is invaluable, extremely special in any case. I know that.  I am humbled by that.  I am grateful for this chance, however long it lasts.

For me, Fig is a member of our family. And knowing her, the little that I can, is like reading a few sentences from God's glorious book of nature. What you can learn from nature, is precious, I would say priceless.

Having this perspective, changes you. You don't care about a car, a house, or TV dramas, well maybe you care a little about TV dramas. But you start to care more deeply about nature. And you rediscover your place in it, with it. You can no longer see yourself removed from it.

Here in Japan, I watch Crows wandering about on the forest floor, picking through the leaves and twigs. This is something I never did in my hometown because until very recently, Crows were simply not present there. I marvel at how Crows scratch out a basic life from what nature supplies. It makes me a little jealous of their connection with nature. I pity them, the cold winters, and the elements. I envy them, their warm set of efficient feathers. I would die in a week, naked in the forest.

Anyway, that is my outlook. I would rather chat to a Crow, than have a Lexus, any day of the week. There is little satisfaction to be had from our polyester world, because it is so disconnected. I do not think that has to be so. 

Notes on Crow Vocabulary/Communication

Note to Self: In springtime, the female Crows start using a call  "Waku". At first I thought Fig was mimicking my Wanna go for a "walk"? But, I have since observed other birds using this call in a few different instances. I think it might be a young female's call, meaning something like I'm feeling flirty. I just don't know, but Fig is saying this to me in place of How, the usual greeting for friend. So far I have only heard this call in the late afternoon. It has the same timber, and character of a friendly greeting with a bit higher stress to the pitch, and perhaps a little songyness to it.

As a "teacher" of English, it is indeed pretty frustrating, coming home every day to a cat who successfully navigates life with a drastically limited, though admittedly, effective vocamewlary. So, it is with Fig, as well, with her vocawbulary.

I cannot list her various natural utterances in their entirety off the top of my head. Nor can I  state with certainty what each and every one of her marvelous vocalizations means, or intends to mean. But one thing is increasingly apparent to me, Fig manages to get through the majority of her day, with a very limited number of calls, which more and more, feel like words, phrases, and sentences to me.

I shall try to list them here. Let's see...

1. Awa Awa- water please, bath please, I see water, let's run a bath, where's my water, I would love for you to wash my face (this is her favorite thing in the world, next to cuddling in my jacket).

2.  Hawa Hawa (Huh-wah) - food please, I see food, let's eat, how about some food, where's the food bub? This is used as a common greeting in a similar fashion as human English, "Let's do lunch!" or "We gotta do lunch sometime!" is used to say both, Hello, and Goodbye. It expresses respect, but in sort of an obligatory sort of a way.

3. Hau Hau Hau (How) - Friend. Happy. Glad. I want to do that! Hooray! Overjoyed! Yippee! Glad to see you!

4. Aaa-Aaa - I love you. You rock! You are my best friend! I am so happy you are here darling!

5. Ha! Ha! Ha! (rapid)- Danger! Something scary! What the hell is that? Watch out! Heads up! Protect me! I am scared out of my wits! Someone left an item of black clothing in the bathroom!!! I see you cat!

6. Ha!  Ha! (sharp, punctuated projecting, and deliberate) - I see an incoming Crow. I see you. I am announcing my presence under FAA rules. Here is me, Fig! Don't mess with me. I may have a black belt in karate. I have announced myself, let's be cool, but be wary, I'm no sissy.

7. Errr Errrr - (softly uttered in close proximity)  You are the best! Thank you so much. Seriously, you make my day. Will you be my valentine? I could kiss you!

8. Arrrr!!! (Tiger Growl) - No. Seriously, back off!!! Don't touch me!! I will bite you! (though she won't really bite hard in earnest, she does mean to say, NO! Don't touch, or I don't want to do that now. She will play growl too, like dogs do, though she tends to be more leaning towards serious than a dog fighting for a rope, say, and it is important to respect her communication, because a bird is NOT a dog. In short, Fig understands what teasing is, or taunting, and she enjoys a limited bit of play fighting, like dogs do when the mood strikes her, but the difference is, most dogs will play more gently because the balance of power is much more in their favor, so it is best to limit teasing or taunting birds, or not to do it at all, and not to engage in actual physical contact if you do want to play, because for a bird, that is crossing a line from play, to actual fighting. Fig snaps from play growling to lovey dovey affection in an instant, because she knows it is play, and that I am not going to escalate it beyond growling at each other from a distance. I think it is the handlers call, but if the bird does not appear to "get" what your intentions are, then just avoid the communication all together, of you could encourage aggression.

9. Gronk jack hammer kekekekekekekekekek (garglinrg) -
AAAAA jack hammer kekekekkekekkkekeke (gargling) - Ooh baby, I love your wa-ay, every da-ay! This is the mother of all "I love you's" Comes with loads of blinking, neck stretching, tail lowering, and passion.

10. Auka Auka Auka?  (Ah-ooh-ka) This is a question. Any friendlies around? Calling all friendlies. Hello? Anyone out there? Announce yourself. (Crow social media). Anyone wanna chat with me? I'm in a good mood. Let's chat. Come here. Come talk to me. Where are you at? Whatcha doing? Let's do coffee some time...how about right now?

11. Mumble grumble err chatter mutter mutter (Talking to oneself) Screwy friggin' world. Jeez what a day. Man, I seriously need to get a life.

12. Huwuk Hwuk Hwuk.  HAWK!!! Sometimes this call is used as "a lie" by the wild Crows. I think they are using a serious word, to evoke a reaction, flush out hide and seekers, or some other playful thing. Life is a game of tag when you're a Crow. It is a clever tactic, but difficult to caw convincingly when no Hawk is truly around. It's like kids on the playground yelling, Watch out! or Behing you!
I suspect it may also be used to say "Look out ABOVE!" which seems a useful statement for a flying critter to have in it's vocabulary, but it just a humble guess at this point in time, based on very few observations.

13. There are many more sounds, but I feel the top 12 are represented above. I have no idea if what I have observed is accurate at all, but this is the picture coming into view gradually over time to me anyway.

14. Gwah Gwah Gwah. Anxiety! I did not like that! What the hell! You suck!
Wanted to list this in my top 12, but couldn't quite squeeze it in becaue Fig hardly says this anymore. She lives a life of low stress, and luxury, fondly fawned upon like the princess I feel she is. Gwah is usually coming at me in past tense. If I take Fig in an unfamiliar room, out of her comfort zone, to watch TV, or to read a bedtime story with my son in the low light, in my ever ongoing efforts to expand her social borders and opportunities, she is too polite to complain. Upon returning her to her usual space, however, she may assail me with a string of resounding Gwahs. Or if I come home late, or after sun down, then I'll catch an earful of Gwahs. She is too polite to complain at the dinner party, but take her home, and I find out just what a lame date I really was. It's the story of my life. Gwah is definitely the Crow equivalent of WTF, or something like that.


So to review:
Food. Water. Bath.
Friend. Unknown. Threat.
Thank you. I love you. You royally pissed me off.
Anyone wanna chat? What a day.

When you throw in pitch, volume, and repetition frequency you get a pretty complete communication set:
Hungry. Very Hungry. Damn hungry.
Thirsty. Very thirsty. Damn thirsty.
Want a bath. Really want a bath. Give me a big bowl of water, right now!
I'm friendly. I'm friendly if you are. I'm not friendly at all.
I don't want to fight. Pick a fight if you dare. Feathers are gonna fly MF!
Thank you/Yes, please.  No thank you.
I like you. I love you. I am friggin' in love with your ass; I mean, I got it bad baby.
I'm just chillin' by my lonesome.  What's up?  Let's party.
Yo, DANGER!!!

A fun experiment idea?
You might try going an hour, or a day, limiting your vocabulary to a dozen select words, or grunts, varying only the pitch, repetition frequency, and volume to see how it feels. Try it at work. Try it with your kids. Heck, get out and try it on some Crows! Ha!

A few examples of Fig's communication:

In the morning. I bring Fig into the shower room with me. Once perched she feels happy to see me so she greets me with soft Err Errrrs to demonstrate her cheerful mood. Then she bursts out with Aa Aa-
a full fledged, I love you. Then she gives me a long AAA----kekekekek, the full on I'm in love with you. Then in English she'll say "I love you." a few times while pacing a bit. Then when it is her turn to come down to sit on my knee for her shower and face wash, she says a hearty Hau Hau Hau which means, Hooray!!!! Time for my spa treatment massage, my favorite!

In the afternoon. I get home and bring Fig inside. Once perched she assails me with up to a minute or two of continuous Hwah Hawa Hwah (usually in sets of three) which is to say, did you bring me some food? Where's the grub? How about something tasty? She starts in like this weather she is hungry or not (usually not) because she associates me with food very strongly, plus she knows that I usually bring her home some esspecially tasty, out of the ordinary fare item from my own lunch. So this call is almost always first. Once she has made her point about food, she then has a look around for any black clothing, or the cat. She will almost always locate the cat, but black clothing items are more mysterious, less common and less consistent, so they illicite a much stronger response. Ha! Ha! Ha! (3-5 yells) Danger! I see you cat! Why is that black sock on the floor! Once she gets food and calms down, she goes into Errr errr, Aa- Aa-, AA-kekekekek, Gronk, kekekekekek I love you. Love you. Then, preens.

At the park. Fig's family will show up in the skies in the afternoon. Her mother and father, or her siblings. Her mother is most aware of who Fig is. She seems to know even after two years apart that Fig is her child. The father is not interested in Fig, and flies "two steps behind" his wife, though he has come to sit next to and talk to very affectionately to Fig on a few different occassions. During the nesting season though, he become extremely territorial, and viciously aggressive and regards Fig as an outsider, so he has, and he will attack her if I do not stay close. Her siblings take an interest, and will circle overhead for some time, congregating, but not taking too serious an interest. Fig will issue some very strong, confident Ha!  Ha!  Ha! calls which I take to mean, I see you. Please take note of my presence. This call is neutral, which means I am not threatening, but also confident which implies, don't mess with me. Fights never ensue, but Fig's father will enlist siblings in ambush. Now, if I change things a bit, put Fig in an uncomfortable place, off perch say, on the ground, where she feels more vulnerable, and she dashes for a perching spot, then she also calls out Ha! Ha! Ha! but in a higher, stressed tone in the presence of circling Crows. This either means, Help me Matt! or Help me Crows! I have no idea if she feels she needs saving from me, or saving from the crows. It is hard to say. Her desire to take to the skies is very strong, so I suspect she is seeking help from the Crows to take flight, and that she sees her tethers as the thing preventing her from flying. It is not a slight to me, rather, she is expressing her desire to fly, and she seems to think that the other Crows may have some advice, or assistance to give. I wish they did. 

I do not yet fully understand everything Fig says, though I wish I could. Writing about it is one way for me to review in my mind what I am observing, and it keeps me pondering.

Here is one example of an instance that I could not understand.
My son enjoys having his evening shower with Fig. And Fig enjoys her time with him, too. If she did not, she would ask to come out, and refuse to go into the shower. But, my son is only eight years old, so he is not always a perfect angel when it comes to animals. He likes to play with the cap from my shaving cream, and the other day, he decided to show it to Fig to see if she would peck it. She did peck it, but she also was afraid of a foreign object coming close to her, so she said she wanted out, and I removed her from the shower. Now, when I say she said she wanted out, what I mean is that I checked on her in the shower, and observed that she was slightly stressed. I asked my son why, and he explained that he had shown Fig the cup, and that she had pecked it. At that point I asked Fig with a gesture, do you want out, at which point she gestured, yes, by extending her neck, and leaning out towards me. I simply offered my arm and out she leapt. Now, my son was rather upset that I "took" Fig out of the shower, but I explained that Fig said she wanted out because the cup frightened her, so I would have  a chat with her and see if she would agree to go back in. He found this reasonable. So, I closed the door and talked to Fig, or rather, she talked to me. She said, Awa Awa Awa over and over. Hmm. She is saying bath or water? Maybe she is setting the context of her complaint? Do go on.  Then she launched into a long string of Auka Auka Aukas while switching her gaze from the bathroom door to me. She only seemed mildly stressed, but I could not understand what the Aukas were meant to say. It sort of seemed like she might have been talking to my son through the door. On the other hand, I thought she might be complaining to me about my son. I opened the shower room door, and asked Fig if she would like to go back in. She flat refused. I talked to my son, who wanted Fig to come back, and I told him that Fig does not want to go back because the green cup frightened her, so please don't show her unfamiliar things. He agreed.  Fig and I had a bit more chat about things, and she calmed down a bit, and said a few more Auka Aukas. The best guess I have is that the call Auka serves a dual function. To inquire, and to express uncertainty, or a state of uncertainty which I guess are somewhat related.  So maybe Fig was talking to my son through the door. Are you going to be nice? Then talking to me. I don't like what he did! That made me feel scared! This is my best interpretation in any case. Anyway, Fig decided to go back into the shower room soon after this with my son without further incident. I have to constantly remind myself that a child's "misbehavior" is actually inquiry, and experimentation, which is something to be encouraged and praised. I also have to remind myself that Fig, while she is now two, and an "adult" bird, still has a very child-like mind. So, upon further reflection, perhaps she was just talking to me, saying, "Hey, where is MY shower? (Awa Awa Awa!!!)" and "Are you my friend or aren't you? (Auka Auka Auka???)" A shower and face wash are after all her favorite thing in the world. She's practically a duck.

Notes: There is something interesting about bird communication vs. human communication in that much of bird communication is designed to happen only by way of the ears, whereas human communication, to a larger degree, takes part in conjunction with bodily and facial gestures. I also am aware that since Fig cannot fly, I miss a whole realm and dimension of calling which only comes into play in this dynamic activity during which play, fighting, decision making, signaling, discussion, and a whole 'nother world of communicative possibilities opens up. So, to be a better Crow parent, I really must make more effort to expose Fig to wild Crows, and to pay careful attention to their interactions myself.

Experiments: I am intrigued by the idea that Fig may have been talking to me about the past, and or about something in another room. I will try placing an object that stresses her a little in her comfort zone, her usual space, to recreate a similar situation as with my son in the shower room showing her a "scary" unfamiliar cup. Then I will remove her from the shower room, and see if her communication is consistent with that scenario.


(Below are the same calls explained again in a different order, with some additional comments or details.)

Needs:
1.　Caw Caw Caw This is the call everyone associates with Crows. But actually it’s closer to Haw Haw Haw. If we slow this down a bit, and watch the beak, we can see that it is actually closer to Ha wa Ha wa – It means food. I see food. I’m starving. Let's eat. How about some grub? And it’s used as a general greeting in similar fashion that humans might say hello, or goodbye by saying, “Let’s do lunch!” 
It appears to me that a family of Crows uses this call in similar fashion to humans at home. You hungry? Naw, I’m good. (Later) I’m feeling a bit peckish, you? Yeah, I could do with something to eat soon. (Later) I’m starving let’s eat. Me too. What’s good? There appears to be constant chatter about hunger, and status updates on fridge contents, and when consensus is reached a group decision is made to act.
(Tangential Side Note: Another interesting thing is how the Japanese Crow’s language is sometimes similar to human Japanese, by coincidence?  In Japanese, the subject of a sentence is introduced thus, Kyou wa…(As for today…) Watashi wa…(As for me…). Likewise in the Crow’s call uses wa, Hawa (As for food…). It is further interesting that Ha is Japanese for tooth! I am no linguist, but I find these comparisons intriguing to think about.)


2. Awa Awa- I’m thirsty. Let’s hava a bath. I see water. I hear water. It’s raining. Look a river!
Again comparing this to human Japanese, the word for river is Kawa. It is further interesting perhaps that the second need after food, is also ending in wa, (As for water…)

Manners:
3. Errr Errrr – Thank you. Aw gee. (Chattering)
4. Nibble – No thanks.

Love:
Aaa-Aaa - I like you.
6. Gronk jack hammer kekekekekekekekekek (garglinrg) –
AAAAA jack hammer kekekekkekekkkekeke (gargling) –
I love you! This comes with loads of passionate blinking. (Let’s light the candles.)

Greetings:
7. (Friends) Auka Auka Auka? Amazingly, this is literally Japanese for “Shall we meet?” Any friends around? Anyone wanna chat? Wanna play?
8. (Strangers) Ha--! Ha--! – I see you. Take note of my presence. (Neutral) The pitch tends to be straight, not urgent, not threat related.

Danger:
9. Ha! Ha! Ha! (Ah! Ah!)  (rapid)- Danger (below)! Cat! (This call radiates out. The closest Crow with first hand observation expresses more urgency. The further Crows with second hand, and third hand knowledge goes down in urgency.) So a Crow say, 50 meters away, high up in a tree, may only say Ha--! once.) This call can be mixed with urgency, or anger. So, this call can be easily confused with no.8 but the pitch tends to go up.
10. Huwuk Hwuk Hwuk. – Danger (above) Hawk!!! Or maybe, something scary/ threatening above, incoming? I often see Crows lie about this to gain an edge. Just as children on the playground yell, Look, Mrs. Crabapple, right behind you! before dashing away from friends in a game of tag, Crows use the Hawk! Hawk! call to gain a one second advantage.
11. Arrr!!! (Tiger Growl) - No. Seriously, back off.

Mood:
12Hau Hau Hau - Hooray! Yippee! Friend!!!
13. (Muttering) Mumble grumble (Muttering) mutter (Talking to oneself) Screwy friggin' world. Jeez what a day. Man, I seriously need to get a life.

14. Gwah Gwah Gwah. I did not like that!  I’m upset.

15. Crying. (strained wimper) Expresses deep happiness, and sadness, both, but the saddness is much more pronounced.

"How" to Move Flighty Birds

If you care for a perching bird which is "flighty", as I do, then control and trust during handling are the only things keeping your bird safe from sudden, unexpected injury.  I am not a professional bird trainer, but this is what I do to safely control the Jungle Crow under my care. Please let me know if you think this information is useful, or totally off base. I am open to feedback and input from anyone at anytime.

When moving  Fig from place to place, I error on the side of caution. I always opt for the surest way to get from A to B with the least risk to Fig. I simply never know with 100% certainty, that she is not going to decide to panic, play, misbehave, etc... She has her own mind, she is young, impulsive, energetic, playful, a bit overly imaginitive in a paranoid sort of way, and at times hyper, so I can never rule her out of the equation. Flying is very hazardous, dangerous stuff. Every time. Especially inside. There have been times when she spontaneously decides to have herself a full tour of the house just for fun, and or to embarrass the resident predator.

So, when I move her from place to place I use the following protocol:

1. I talk to Fig for a good while, and let her know that we'll be going to such and such a place, indicating with gestures, and words. She knows where we are off too.
2. I wait until she is totally calm, and at ease. Usually, this is indicated with her fluffing up while perched on my shoulder or hand.
3. I sit down, and ask Fig to sit on my knee. She always has an out; she can choose to jump away to an available perch instead. I do not force her to comply. I ask her gently. If she chooses not to sit on my knee, then I simply wait a few minutes and try again. Usually there is no issue.
4. I then ask her to come in for a hug with a gesture, like you would do with your child, "Come for a huggies." She will then hop into my lap, against my body, with her tail tucked under my left arm." It would be very unusual for her to reject a hug, so I would take that to mean that she is not interested in coming in, or moving, and try again later.
5. I then slide my hand under her, say, Up Up, and slowly stand up while gently holding her back against my chest, and her feet tucked back slightly. Higher is better than lower. She feels safe under my chin. If I hold her low, she is likely to feel vulnerable, or see a chance to "escape",, flap, and get injured. Then we walk to the destination. Plus the chin serves as an extra hand if needed. And she can hear me well while I talk to her softly, and reassuringly.
6. I say, Down Down, and slowly lower myself, keeping my left hand on the doorjam for balance. Fig stands in my lap again, tail under my left arm.
7. As I remove my right hand, my right side opens up to easy hopping distance to the perch.
8. I count 1,2,3, and slowly lower my right arm to release Fig to hop free.

This is quite a controlled moving protocol, but I find it very safe and successful compared to moving Fig while she is perched on my hand or shoulder, in which case I am trusting her, and there will always be a chance that she will decide to play, misbehave, freak out about something or other, decide to look for a mirror or window, or break a leg attempting to land somewhere slippery. She can be like a bull in a china cabinet if she decides she'd like a bit of "fun". The environment is not static, so there may be something new, or some tiny change she sees that I was unaware of. I also need to be constantly mindful of the fact that she can only manage to fly so far, but that she is daring, and a bit over confident; she will overstretch herself if I let her alight in a place too distant from the place we were intending to go, and then she puts herself at risk of missing her perch, spraining a leg, straining a wing, or worse, falling, slipping, or crashing, breaking her beak, what have you.

My philosophy is, never take an unnecessary chance for a simple thing like moving here to there. Besides, the bird understands that handling such as this, is protective. She does not object before or after. However, Fig will blame the blue blazes out of me, utterly, and completely, if she suffers a fright or misstep in transit; in those rare instances, she lays the blame squarely, and rightly on me, 100%, and she is not afraid to give me a very loud earful for several minutes. So, I believe that this sort of "over protective" handling reinforces bond, trust, and, yes, a bit of dominance which can come in handy. I think it is appropriate, but I wonder how other bird handlers feel about this approach? Please let me know your thoughts.

Yes, there are certainly times, when Fig is very calm, or sleepy. At these times I feel compelled to trust her more, and simply move her while she is perched on my arm. It is easier and more convenient for me. I simply put a hand over her to gently assure that she remains on my arm. Crows have a very wide birth comfort zone. Being close to them, face to face, is stepping into their comfort zone, their personal space. The sound of your breath. The closeness. It quickly builds up tension, even in a very tame Crow like Fig. I suppose as the years go by, she will become even more tame, but I have come to accept that it is a natural fact that closeness is avoided as a survival tactic. For this reason, even when Fig is sleepy, or calm, I employ the safe handling I have outlined above. A house is just too full of mirrors, windows, slippery surfdaces, things to break, fall, startle, and frighten, and it is good protocol to avoid all possible endangerment as a course of habit.

Puzzles

Puzzles is now a Page on this blog. I am adding to it gradually. Please visit my Pages to read about puzzles. Link below:

http://askajapanesejunglecrow.blogspot.jp/p/puzzles.html?m=0

Crows Brushing Their Teeth

I get some interesting questions from people who take an interest in Fig when we are out and about. Recently, someone asked me if Crows have teeth???

It is a great question, though modern birds do not really have teeth; they may have a spiky tongue, or a serrated beak edge, though.  I have not really checked carefully enough to observe either of these things along or inside Fig's beak, or on her tongue but certainly when Fig "bites" / expresses her mood with her beak, there is not any feeling or marking which would indicate serrations; the side edges of her beak are pretty razor sharp, and smooth, but she would only manage to slice/cut a person's skin if she clamps, twists and yanks with pretty serious intent. Her nervousness continues to decline over time, so she stopped biting hard way too long ago for me to remember what any serious bite really feels like at this point in time, though I did get a couple of slices on the fingers back in the early days, sunce I got her as a passage bird, not a nestling, which means she was fully raised by birds, she imprinted on birds, and has been naturally fearful of humans from day one.

I will have a close look inside her beak while I wash her face, and see if I can find any bird teeth. She usually goes to sleep on my knee in the shower, and I can just open her beak and take a peek. I'll update this post below, later. 

One interesting thing I can tell you, however, is that Fig certainly does "brush" her teeth. Usually, after a bath, she will stick her beak deeply into water, and vigorously rinse the inside of her beak several times, perhaps also rinsing out her "shopping bag" under her lower beak, as there is usually a little food in the water after she does this. 

I found this hilariousness (link below), which is also very informative on the extremely interesting topic of bird teeth. It is worth a read for the laughs, the pictures, and the learns. Enjoy!

http://webecoist.momtastic.com/2010/09/28/brush-your-beak-10-amazing-birds-with-teeth/

Wild Crows/Fig Update

  I was delighted this morning, while dropping my son at school, Fig's mom happened to be perched atop some scaffolding they had up around the premises. She spotted me right away, and swooped down to accost me from a wire, tail fanning, head bobbing. Her dad came to join in, but he is no where near as interested in berating me. The mother followed me two block on my bicycle, swooping wildly up and down the center of the road. I had not encountered her all winter. She has seen me out with Fig on the day after she fledged, but broke her wing, and maybe two or three dozen times following. I suppose there really are not too many blond guys in Japan. I tried greeting her with the friendly call that Fig has taught to me, but she wasn't having it. She did not seem angry. She was just letting me know that I am not particularly her favorite son in law.

I have seen many interesting Crow goings on recently, some of which I have forgotten. I saw a Crow swoop over a river, and drop a large twig into the water. I've seen them stealing food from Hawks in flight a number of times. Once a Hawk dropped its food, and a Crow dove straight down like a Falcon and grabbed the food from midair just inches from the ground. I saw two dead Crows in the forest by my school, and called the health department. They said to call back when there were ten. But they showed up and collected them anyway. I saw men checking the woods today as well, so perhaps we are in the middle of a bird flu outbreak. They said they were not looking for Crows however. I saw two Crows standing next to a large cat in a field. Right next to the cat. Like they were picnicing. I think the cat had discovered a cache of fish, and they were poitely intimidating the cat to amscray. I have seen them do that before. Utterly fearless! Fig, however, is ultra cautious of our cat. I think she knows she cannot fly, so she chooses safe places to roost. There is a pair that seems to own a swath of rice fields near my school. They are the only pair I ever see foraging there. Delightful couple. So peaceful together. They stand very close to each other which is somewhat rare. They are a pair of farmers.  I saw a Japanese Magpie on a wire by their fields a few times, but it never seems to venture into the fields. It is definitely their spot. It's three full blocks of field land. Seems a bit much for a pair of Crows. Then again, fields in winter are pretty barren. I guess they are after grain, worms, and hummingbird moth larvae, but who knows? I also like to watch Crows wading about in the river I cross on the way to work. The water level varies with the ocean tides, though the ocean is a mile away or so. I never see them eating anything, but I sometimes catch them bathing. It is quite the lifestyle if you ask me.

There is a pair of Crow near my school that inhabit a busy intersection in the morning. They walk around on the ground, and seem particularly obsessed with one patch of road. I cannot help but wonder if an off-spring was run over there. They walk about in the morning rat race with the hustling bustling people, which I have only seen one other time. Then they perch on the signs, and in the bushes around the intersection for an hour or so. There is no food there that I can tell, and they don't seem to be guarding a stash. I need to go and observe; curiosity is killing me.

I heard a Crow call a call I have never heard. It sounded almost exactly like the Three Stooges Gnyuck Gnyuck Gnyuck. I tried to tape it, but the Crow flew off. They are all allergic to iPhones for some reason. Fig picks up local Crow calls each season from her balcony, so I hope she will pick that call up, I rather like it. Mating season is a highly vocal time before the silence of nest building and rearing young descends. She manages to converse with family members perching nearby quite frequently, and she can spend all day listening to them as they migrate out in the mornings, and back in in the afternoons. I am glad she has some level of wild existence to occupy her mentally, but I am amazed at how well she gets on spending quite a lot of time on her own. She is very independent, but I do need to give her time each day with unfailing regularity. In the winter, we lose our time in the morning because she would rather sleep late in her warm, insulated box than get up for a shower with me when the air is cold. I invite her out, but she pecks my hand lightly to say, "I'm gonna sleep in, thanks. See you tonight." She will stay in her box until 10 or 11 if it is really cold. Her family, on the other hand, are all up at 5am. Such a lazy thing, Fig. I'm glad we have that in common. When she first came into our life, I thought I'd have to start getting up at 5am to sift through the neighbor's garbage with her.

Fig is a lone Crow, and she sleeps alone. That's rather sad and unnatural. It is also scary for her to be alone at night. For this reason Fig gets to sleep in a warm, soft blanketed very well temperature, and sound insulated box for a safe, cozy, quiet, long nights sleep. She can get out, get up, whenever she likes. I keep her up until ten p.m. recently because she then sleeps later, avoiding the cold mornings, and cutting three hours from the time she would be alone during the day, and increasing her evening social experience. It is a trade off, because ideally Fig should wake with the wild birds outside, but it works well to keep her spirits a bit higher.

Recently, I had a flu, or cold, so I avoided contact with Fig for two days, just talking to her from a distance. She was rather put out about that, and she gave me strong feedback bites/pecks on my hand for a couple days, and yelled at me a bit to let me know that she did not appreciate my stand-offishness. I took her to the park, and cuddled her in my sweater, and that soon had her back in her usually calm and peaceful mood again though. She is such an emotional creature. A feedback peck is where I let her peck my hand to indicate her stress, or happiness level, anxiety, etc... It is one way Fig and I communicate. It is the bird equivalent of a high five.

How to Fill a Water Cup

Something I learned from cleaning fishtanks, is that a container is never clean.
They collect dust, residue, and even the water you put in may contain contaminants. The world is like a nuclear accident.

One thing you can do when filling waterbowls for your precious birdies, to up the cleanliness factor yet one more notch is to fill the bowl so that it overflows. This helps eliminate any floating debris or oil, or soap residue which will float in a micro-film on the top.

This is also a good way to fill up your fishtank. 

Perches for High Strung Birds

The following is a short description for a basic perch for Crows, and other high strung perching birds.

You must have a minimum of two perches to enable hopping, or flight at all times because birds of this sort require an "out" or "escape".  They have active and "paranoid" imaginations; always taking evasive action from predators, or perceptions. They have a take no chances survival strategy, are flighty, claustrophobic, and panicky by nature.

Cage or aviary environments create tensions by constraining nature's usually free and open boundaries resulting in stress. Fortunately, there are ways stress can be released, or dissipated in artificial, confined environments. This post is only about perch design which may reduce stress which can quickly, and repeatedly build up in cages, or aviaries.

A Crow cannot make do stationary, on a single perch, except to sleep, even then I don't recommend it. Crows move naturally forward, more so than sideways.

The following is a description of what I have learned that makes a good perch in captivity.  When I figure out great, I'll let you know.

Main perches if you can only have two should be two different sizes with one being about 4 inches in diameter and another about half that, for Crows. (For song birds generally, aim to open the bird's feet about half way, and fully in an arch. Allow for a long unobstructed flight, but keep in mind that captive birds spend more time standing still than a wild bird, they need the support underfoot of broad main perches. Pad perches with one or two layers of fleece if the perches are solidly stationary.  Tree branches give by bending, thereby absorbing shock. Stationary perches do not bend, so padding them is a good idea to prevent repetitive stress injuries. I recommend two layers for big birds like Crows. Fleece can be glued on with white glue and held with plastic zip ties. It is easy to wash with soap, hot water, and a brush, and dries quickly,

At each end of the perches, tie a rope segment, or loop of small link plastic chain, fishtank tubing, or a hoop of plastic or wood.. The end of a perch on a tree has sky, an escape. A wall creates stress, so a bite, or move stress toy is essential at or near the ends of perches at both ends of all perches. I recommend placing your ropes, chains, or rings made from fish tank tubing near, but not at the wall, or cage bars, to keep birds from coming into contact with walls or cage bars and using the wall or bars to bite, peck, touch with a foot, or otherwise come to associate with dissipation of stress. Cotton rope, rubber jump rope, fish tank tubing, and light plastic chain work well.  Crows cannot untie cheap rubber jump rope. You can tie short segments of colorful strings to a chain, or to a tubing ring for double stress release because the bird must first move, or rotate the chain or loop and hold it with a foot before it can tug at a string. A block of balsa or soft pine to peck is also good for beak growth and conditioning. Never use any metal, screws, nails, or hard ceramics! Drill holes in your pine or balsa blocks to create caches, and you can even cram peanuts into the holes for the bird to peck out.  Think move left or right, rotate, tug or peck. Have some variety in toys/stress release objects. Bits of leather tied in slightly obnoxious places make great natural tug and peck "agitators" to expend energy on.

It is a good idea to place smaller diameter perches without padding, just bare wood, at 45-60 degree angles at the wall ends of perches. These 30-40cm inclines offer smaller diameters, natural wood to wear nails, angled leg exercise, imaginative play opportunities, and stress relief by deflecting attention away from sheer wall, or bars.

In the center of perches it is a good idea to attach a loose folded towel. Birds can clean themselves, release stress, cache food in,  land on, focus on, play with, and fight with this towel. It is essentially a buddy, a security blanket, and someone to boss around, which is especially important for solitary birds.

Finally place a plastic cup under the short angled perches. Crows want places to put food. They'll gladly use a fixed cup to drink from, or eat from.

I will post a photo of Fig's perch.

This perch design works very well to provide constant, compulsive, high energy state activity switching: jump forward, turn around, hop sideways, hop up at an angle, hop down, get some food, cache something, uncache something, wipe the beak off, tug something, rotate something, stand on something in order to peck at a rope escaping reach by gravity,  lift something, move something left, right, back to center, push something up the inclined perch, pull it back down, duck down posturing, flat standing, up stretch, downward stretch, stretch around an obstacle, and more.

Update/ Handling

Fig is doing very well.  She will be two this spring. I anticipate she will become sexually "awakened" this year, perhaps a year earlier than a wild Crow might, because she is well fed, bonded with me, and living a relatively "stress free" existence, aside from the cat.  But a predator provides some natural stress, as well as a reason to be active and attentive, so one might argue that some level of threat is actually beneficial as it exercises attention, and perception. If you have no experience with birds, or other unfixed animals...it's a challenging aspect to caring for birds, their sexual behavior. They are lovey dovey, and that can come with noise, aggression, and persistent need for togetherness. Already Fig serenades me more and more, and she wants cuddles, pets, and preening. Withholding affection for a day puts her out of sorts. Giving her affection each day sets her mood for the next. It is quite a responsibility, and she is still only a juvenile bird. Thankfully she sits quietly in my lap so I can draw, read or write if I need to. Fig also loves watching TV more and more. She will insist on coming to the living room for together time if she hears something interesting she wants to watch, though I have no idea what catches her interest yet. I wish we had the bird channel.

Fig can be cuddled and hugged around the house. She will not go to the bathroom on me, or the floor.  If she needs to go she tells me, and off we go to the toitoi. Recently she loves hugs and cuddles more because it is winter. Winter is the season to do manipulation and handling training because you have the advantage of warmth. A warm water bottle, blanket, or warming your hands is useful. Fig has gotten very confident about being handled, and manipulated for tethering, nail trimming, and transport. She will sit in my lap, come in close for hugs with a hand signal, and has no stress about being embraced, held with legs tucked back, or flipped upside down for nail trimmings. She flips back over, stands back in my lap, and jumps out to my arm or a perch, or marker on the count of three without any panic. She will go to the floor, or even perch under the cat if told to.

Counting to three is a very useful technique. It creates expectation, reinforces understanding, and prevents panic and miscommunication. Fig knows if I start counting that all she has to do is wait three seconds before I direct her next move, or release her. Usually, I count while holding a hand in front of her, then direct her leap with a gesture. She has it down pat. Good communication prevents accidents; that's the name of the game with high strung, flighty, panicky, fragile, already injured animals.  It has been a long two years getting Fig to this point. I so wish I could devote more time to her. She has incredible potential. Progress is slow, but steady.

I think my favorite time is playing with Fig out on her balcony. She leaps over, under, and through my limbs in all manner of playful invention. She instigates with a caw, objects with a growl, chats and murmurs under her breath, puffs up on my shoulder, and launches into strings of I love yous. Then comes into my lap for a tight warm embrace, a nice break from the snappy chill of winter, burying her face in my shirt.

Fig is talking more and more with my son, and my son now insists on taking his evening shower with Fig who runs over to playfully pull his hair if he's not paying attention, as a tease, or barrage him with extremely loud "love songs", again teasing him. He can gently shower her, which makes her happy and grateful, so her perception of him is warming over time. She will not, however, allow anyone other than me, in the house, to have her perch on their arm. It takes years to earn a passage Crow's full confidence, as Fig was raised for a full 4-5 weeks in the nest, to fledging. We will continue to work at it, and learn, and watch TV together.  It's a lot of work, a lot of fun, and a long journey. Fig is young, and youngsters are hyper, and impulsive, but Fig is calming, and wising up quickly. Hopefully, once she fully grasps the toilet concept, she can transition to shoulder perching in the next year, for now though, she's a lap Crow.

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.

New Things

Fig has become much more talkie, and communicative over the past year.  She now communicates all her needs well.  She can clearly communicate vocally using Crow language which means: I want food, I want water, I want affection, I want a shower, I want to go to sleep now/I missed you/I'm thrilled to see you, You are my pal, I'm afraid of something, I was afraid/Where were you?, I was lonely,  I'm angry, I see the cat, What is that unfamiliar thing? Let me see that/That is interesting. She also communicates using English hello, and I love you in appropriate situations. She uses body language to communicate joy, and fear, and worry to talk about present, past and future.

She has gotten very communicative. Singing long, varied, intricate love songs to me in the morning, and in the afternoons blinking her eyelids, fluffing the nape of her neck, and her crown like a  Cockatoo. Most recently she has taken to flicking her tail down when she serenades like a mechanical Cuckoo, which is rather cute.

She continues to add calls to her vocabulary. She picks some of them up from the local wild Crows, but she also is trying harder and harder to mimick words and sounds I utter to her as a lullaby, to calm her. She remains incredibly emotional, and high strung. The other day I had her on my arm in the bathroom, and she fell asleep while I was whispering sounds and review vocabulary to her. Suddenly she startled and fell into the sink. That almost never happens, a dangerous startle, but as an example, that is the nature of the beast I am trying to calm. She gets better and better with time. These first two years have been dangerous indeed, because Fig's natural high strung state makes her a perpetual hazard to herself. Fortunately, she is vastly improved socially, and that will continue, but I can never forget her nature, or she could easily injure herself horribly at any moment. You might get away with stepping on your dog a few times, or tripping over the cat, but you can't afford mistakes handling birds, and wild ones are like race horses; they need constant assurance, communication, and calming. It's a never ending worryfest for me, but I have to admit it is rather addicting in a co-dependency sort of a way. I wonder if taking care of Fig is making my life drastically shorter, or if she is keeping me more alive?

Recently Fig has added a high pitched Wa to her vocabluary. I think I have heard the wild female I observe in my local park making this call in the afternoons to announce gathering, or evening migration to another area for the family youngsters.