By Janice Lindsay
Contributing Writer
My friendship with my remarkable crow neighbors began with mice.
Specifically, with deceased mice. I don’t like being the cause-of-demise of any woodland creature but, darn it, I did not invite them into my garage. And I definitely did not invite them into my car. I sensed a mousy automotive invasion (the nose knows). The folks at the service station removed the miscreants and replaced damaged parts. They fastened a grid over the air-intake pipe, the port of entry.
In the meantime, I laid traps in the garage. To calm my conscience about being an assassin, I considered this to be recycling, from nature back to nature. I left the deceased in a spot in the driveway that I call Crow Corner. The crows learned to watch for snacks.
In the spring of 2024, I discovered that during the winter, mice had built nests on the steps under my bulkhead door that lead to the interior cellar door. When I evicted them, most escaped alive, but some returned. More treats for the crows.
The crows, who can remember individual people, came to recognize me as the person leaving treats.
Later that spring, I had run out of mice. But I realized that when the local crow family saw me outside, they perched on oak trees at the edge of the driveway, watched me, and tried to look hungry.
I had read that puppy kibble is a relatively nutritious food for crows. I have a friend who cooks chicken and assorted giblets for the crows, which is kind but not totally necessary for creatures that happily eat roadkill. I decided that, for my crows and me, Purina Puppy Chow would do.
So whenever my crow friends seemed to ask, I went into the house, fetched a cup of Puppy Chow, sprinkled it in Crow Corner and left. By the time I had walked a few feet away, they were gobbling up the kibble.
It’s not a good idea to get too close to the crows or try to tame them. It’s too dangerous for them, as other people might not be well intentioned. So I kept my distance, and they kept theirs, but the distance was small.
After a while, I realized that, when the crows saw me out walking, they were following me home. Rather, they preceded me home. They perched in the trees several yards ahead of me; when I reached those trees, they swooped ahead to others. When I arrived home, they were waiting for me, in the oak trees, gazing at me. Of course I gave them treats.
All that stopped as we approached the winter of 2024/2025. In the winter, I usually don’t see the crows so much. I assume the various crow families gather into a flock with other crow families and are occupied elsewhere.
In spring, the families spread out again and divide the territories among them.
In the summer of 2025, it was clear that the crows in my yard did not recognize me. I did not need Puppy Chow.
But recently, as I walked toward the house after leaving my trash bucket for pick-up at the end of the driveway, a crow swooped through the trees, perched in an oak tree near the house, and watched me expectantly.
It must have recognized me from two years ago. I fetched cat kibble as a temporary substitute, tossed it into Crow Corner, and returned to the house. Before I had reached the steps, Crow was scarfing the snack.
The crows have trained me well.
Contact [email protected].
RELATED CONTENT:
This is So American: The Inspiring Story of Irving Berlin
