Bebe Crow

 Some people who don't know any better, hate crows but I love them. And I know and have known a few. They are one of the most intelligent of the bird family but they are also comedians and great friends of those who respect them. When I lived in a city that was large but one with agricultural roots, I inherited the resident crow from the former owners of the condo unit I bought. The crow that I never did name, came to sit on the railing patiently waiting for me to catch on to the hint that he or she, I never can tell which is which, wanted to begin our relationship. Finally, I left an inch cube of bread out while I sat on the deck swing. The crow would land on the rail and walk toward the cube, taking it and flying away. When I wasn't there, it went about the deck hopping on the glass topped table and on the cabinet with plants to poke about looking. The way crows walk is comical in itself and they have a way of almost entertaining anyone who is watching. Crows are groupies and soon my black friend and perhaps members of his family came to know me. Evidently, crows are clever at face recognition. When I went to my back deck, the shady one, the crow I began to call Mr. Crow but it could have been a Mrs. , would look for me. It did not demand food because crows have pride and dignity although some would dispute that fact. Mr. C never did take the bread treat from my hand as had a former seagull friend, Alf that I had a few years before. Crows are much too proud for that. The crow saw me going often to my red car and he would hop about nearby as I boarded and drove off. When Mr. Crow and family saw me coming back through the complex gate, now that they knew my car, too, they would do a fly-over as I entered the gateway.  When I moved, I regretted breaking our five year long friendship. Mr. Crow never demanded his treats and often he would come and sit on the rail just in companionship. When I moved to a newly built condo in a seaside community far off,  there were crows accustomed during  lunch break, to being fed by the workers who constructed the building. My now finished condo unit was on the ground floor overlooking a small patch of lawn behind a rock wall. I sat on my patio and found that the crows came to see if someone might offer them some repast as had been done in the past.  At first, since it is against condo rules to feed birds of course, I did not respond to their visits. But they came silently, knowing that we were cohorts in an illegal conspiracy, the feeding of bird life, he landed silently on the lawn some ten or more feet away and walked in his comical gait, to my very private space on the patio. There was no cawing. Soon we became good friends with my once a day only,  little bread cube treat. I do not believe in feeding animals in nature but a tiny once-a-day bit of bread, in my mind, did not constitute "feeding". The other people on my side of the building were also clients of this new Mr. Crow. Mr. Crow became so friendly that he or she, would often fly to the back of my wing back wicker chair where I read, to sit and make good company just being there. I moved again to my present domain and once again, I have a new crow friend. He or she is young, having been brought here by its parent who used to take the treat I left, and feed it to Bebe as I call this young crow. I will write more next time to tell you about the friendship Bebe and I developed.