Watchbirds

German Shepherds of the Bird World

Our neighbor's two darling kittens have grown up to be lethal bird catchers, so keeping cats out of our yard and away from the feathered morsels at the bird feeders [sigh] is a continuing, occupation. After some experimentation (yelling, arm waving, chasing, paper snapping), I've found that watering the cats with a Super Soaker convinces them to skip our backyard in their search for prey. Recently, though, our next-door neighbor's sweet little kitten has also developed an unhealthy fascination with the bird feeder. Much as I hate doing it, I also treat that kitty to a super soak every time I see her in the backyard. [Update. The kitty, named Quira, has learned to visit me while I'm gardening in the front yard and entirely avoid the back. Who says cats can't be trained?]

Fortunately, I don't have to spend all day watching out the back window for cats. Bertram, Corvina, and Ned have turned out to be watchbirds and caw persistently when there's a cat in the yard. There is no ignoring the noise, or mistaking it for anything but a demand for cat mitigation measures. At first, the crows cawed at cats hanging out in other yards, too, but gave it up when they learned that their fuss only works in our yard.

Bertram warns the other yardbirds about a predatory cat. 

I thought this warning behavior might be unique to "my" crows, but a couple of weeks ago I watched a crow caw angrily at a bus that had hit a seagull. The crow sat on the wire over the bus stop and cawed at that bus and every other bus that came during the 15 minutes I was standing there. Crows also take action towards predatory birds during nesting season. When hawks and eagles try to raid a crow's nest, they flock from the surrounding areas and gang up on the predators, hassling them until they give up and leave.

Dr. John Marzluff, at the University of Washington, is very interested in how crows share knowledge with one another about "dangerous humans,"--humans who have trapped and banded them for research and then released them. From my personal observations, though, it isn't just humans that crows mob, but anything that represents a danger- a hawk, an eagle, a cat--or even a bus. Crows are to other birds world like German Shepherds are to people: watchers, warners, and sometimes even attackers.

Go Bertram!

How I Manage the Wildlife in Our Yard

You may know from previous posts that I feed the small birds in our yard as well as the crow family, Bertram, Corvina, and Ned. What you may not know is that I've learned a lot about wildlife management this way. Here's my story.

Front Yard Bird Feeders

1. To attract some feathered friends to our yard, I installed several feeders designed for small birds on a pole in front our house. 
2. As soon as it was up, a squirrel climbed the pole and emptied the feeders.
3. I added a squirrel baffle to the pole.  
4. The squirrel turned his attention to the backyard feeder (more on this later).
5. A family of northern flickers began hanging on the feeders and gobbling up the food, eventually breaking the feeders under their weight. 
6. I replaced the feeders, and to distract the northern flickers, installed a suet feeder, which attracted an enormous flock of starlings who drove away all of the small birds and finished off the suet as well as all of the food in the rest of the feeders.
7. I decided not to refill the suet and discovered that screeching loudly at the starlings drives them away, without perturbing the small birds in the least. 
8. My neighbors, however, now give me frightened looks and run indoors whenever they see me coming out of my house.
9. Another broken feeder inspired me to install a “Starling-Proof” suet feeder for the northern flickers. The starlings enjoy the suet very much. 
10. I began screeching again. The little birds cock their heads for a moment and then go back to eating. The starlings and my neighbors flee the area.
11. Some birds manage to get more seed onto the ground than into their beaks, which attracts the black-eyed juncos, who are ground feeders. Ground-feeding birds in turn attract the neighbor’s cat, which hides in our rain garden whilst waiting for a junco to stop by for lunch. 
12. Unlike with starlings, screeching at a cat is completely ineffective (see Bad Bad Bad Kitty).
13. I now keep a Super Soaker, full and handy for watering any cats that come into the yard. This doesn't endear me to cat-owning neighbors any more than does the screeching, or perhaps even less so. (Super Soaker:  $15.99 The look on the cat’s face: Priceless)
14. I put up a seed hoop to catch the seed that the sparrows shovel out of the feeders and keep the seed and the juncos above kitty’s reach. I’ll keep you posted about how the seed hoop works after I install it. Bill predicts that it will make a nice platform for the squirrel to use to reach the feeders. 

More Stuff

Hummingbird Feeder

Note: This is a separate item, even though it hangs on the main feeder pole, because (1) hummingbirds do not behave like other birds, and (2) squirrels couldn't be less interested in hummingbird food.

1. I installed a multi-hole hummingbird feeder based on the package illustration, which shows three hummingbirds peacefully sipping together on it. 
2. Turns out a large Anna’s hummingbird owns the feeder. When another hummingbird approaches, she zooms in hot pursuit of the interloper, buzzing “ratatatata” like a machine gun. 
3. Realizing that only one hummingbird at a time can ever eat at the same feeder, and that approaching a guarded feeder can be life-threatening to the interloper, I have installed several additional feeders on different sides of the house, none in clear line of sight from any other.

Back Yard Bird Feeder

1. So that Bill and I can get away for the occasional day or two without my worrying that the little birds will starve to death, I put up a large, squirrel-proof feeder in the backyard that holds 20 lb of sunflower seed. (See it here: http://www.duncraft.com/All-Weather-Feeder-With-Wire-Cage.)
2. The squirrels can shake food out of the feeder by swinging on it. If they swing persistently enough it flies off the hanger entirely and lands on the ground, dumping most of the seed. 

Crow Feeding Stations

1. I decided to see whether a curious crow who hangs about the house watching me garden would eat some peanuts that I set out for him. (He would.) 
2. After a few days of getting peanuts from me, he brought over his mate. I named the two crows Bertram and Corvina.
3. Bertram and Corvina now land on the neighbor’s roof each morning, peer through our dining room window, and caw while I eat breakfast until I get up and put out their peanuts. 
4. And they bring their child, Ned, who occasionally brings his girlfriend along. 
5. The squirrels (plural now, as the original squirrel had babies) also show up at peanut time, so I give them a few, too. They've become good at corralling all of the peanuts, preventing the crows from having any.
6. To keep the peace, I experimented with a number of crow feeding stations and settled on the roof of the garden shed, in an attempt to foil the squirrels.
7. The squirrels leaped from the plum tree to the roof of the garden shed and gobbled up all of the peanuts. 
8. To distract the squirrels from the peanuts as well as the backyard bird feeder, I put out a squirrel corn cob feeder that holds two corn cobs. As of right now, less than 24 hours later, the squirrels have eaten all of the corn and are still getting most of the peanuts.

No squirrel on the seed hoop (yet), although a starling was sitting on it earlier, trying to pass for a goldfinch.

Well, that's what I've learned so far. I hope this has given you some good ideas about how to manage the wildlife in your own yard. 

You might also like:

Meet Bertram

Gardening for Wildlife

A Painter of Crows

I seem to have happened upon a kindred spirit, Kathleen A. Johnson, Two Crows Studio. She's done a number of crow paintings. I'm absolutely inspired!

Seven Crows at Night by Kathleen A Johnson

Crow Science

Crows teach each other who's who.

As you know, I'm very interested in crows as pets, especially Bertram, Corvina, and their babies. Scientific researchers, too, have become very interested in crows, mainly because of their extremely high intelligence and the similarity of their social behavior to that of humans. My friend Biker Bob just pointed out this article about crows, which in turn reminded me of the following PBS video, A Murder of Crows, which details research at the University of Washington about how crows remember people's faces and teach their fellow crows about who is dangerous.

http://www.pbs.org/wnet/nature/a-murder-of-crows-full-episode/5977/

A Murder of Crows

If you're still doubting about the human-like qualities of crows, watch this video about a crow who fed and cared for an abandoned kitten:

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Help Name the Baby Crows

Update: There is now just one baby crow remaining out of the three, and he has been named Ned. I learned from watching the PBS video, A Murder of Crows, that the attrition rate of baby crows is very high, probably typical of most birds. In their study, only one out of the original eight youngsters made it to the end of the study, which was only a few months long. Anyway, we're enjoying watching and listening to Ned.

Original Story:
As you know, Bertram and Corvina have three youngsters now. To write stories about them, I need to know what their names are. Lucy, a young friend and fellow crow watcher, has kindly provided six ideas. Please help narrow these choices down by picking your three favorites in the poll on the upper-right part of this page.

New Kids on the Block

Last week I spent a day digging out the rockery in front of our house, all the while serenaded by the loud squawks of one or more of Bertram and Corvina's babies. Yes, the long-awaited time had finally arrived, heralded by lots and lots of noise.

Once baby crows get big enough, they leave the nest and start walking around on the tree branches, flapping their wings to strengthen them. Looking down from a height and not yet being able to fly must make them feel very insecure, and they let the world hear about it in a manner impossible to ignore. If you're not sure what a young crow sounds like, just imagine an exceptionally loud and obnoxious "crying" babydoll.  
  
WHAAya. WHAAya. WHAAya. WHAAya. WHAAya. WHAAya. (Repeat indefinitely)

One of Bertram and Corvina's kids.

Crows Are Getting Some Bad Press

Oh dear, oh dear, Kiro just ran a thing about how aggressive crows are, and people are making comments that the crows should be shot. Right now, crows like Bertram and Corvina are protecting their nests, and if you act like you're after their babies, they'll dive bomb you. Or at least that's what I hear. I think that staying away from crows nests is probably prudent this time of year. Other than that, shooting them? I don't think so.

Anyway, here's a link to the piece: http://mynorthwest.com/?nid=11&sid=491710#

Please don't let it inspire you to go out and hurt a crow.

As a reward for not hurting crows, here's a fun video showing a crow fashioning a tool to get something out of a jar.

A Marauding Eagle

Yesterday evening Bill and I were standing under the flowering European Bird cherry in our backyard, when our attention was drawn to a cacophony of cawing overhead. I ran out into the middle of the yard to get a better look, just in time to see dozens of crows chasing a bald eagle. The eagle was flying erratically, trying to avoid the swooping and diving crows.

Flocks of crows chase away the marauding eagle.

Girl, Boy, Who Cares?

A week or so ago, Bertram reappeared after an absence of five days. (You may remember my fretting that he'd been done in by a poisoned mouse.) Shortly after Bertram's return, Corvina disappeared for seven days. I didn't blog about it this time because I didn't want to gain a reputation as a neurotic alarmist.

After he'd been gone for several days, I speculated that Bertram might actually be a female and sitting on eggs. Corvina's disappearance let some air out of this idea, though, because it appears that Bertram and Corvina may be sharing this duty. Perhaps crows aren't as sexist in their child-rearing roles as the crowologists think.The upshot is that I've decided to stick with my original assumptions about who's a boy (Bertram) and who's a girl (Corvina), as it probably doesn't matter that much to them, and it spares me having to redo everyone's wardrobe.

Anyway, here's the latest in the crow family saga: Corvina and Bertram are now disappearing on alternate days: one day Bertram is here begging for peanuts, and the next day Corvina is. As many peanuts as I can put out, they consume. I can't imagine how they're eating all these peanuts without gaining so much weight that they can't fly.

Bertram is Back

Bertram just landed on the wire outside the living room window and peered in. I had already put peanuts out early this morning, but I immediately went out and delivered some more. He had fluffed up feathers, and flew over to another wire in front of the neighbor's house while I set out the peanuts, which he's never done before. Frankly, he looks a bit frazzled. I would guess there may be some young birds responsible for that. I stood quietly on the front porch and heard the peeping sounds of baby birds, possibly coming from the crow's nest.

O happy day!

Bertram's Disappearance

Sunday evening, Bill spotted Bertram on the roof next door, eating a mouse. Crows aren't hunters, so I knew this was carrion, and started stewing about Bertram being poisoned by Decon, or some other poison that may have killed the mouse. My fears worsened when Bertram disappeared for a few days. I spotted him just once on Monday, and then not at all for the rest of the week. Corvina, however, continued coming around, although staying farther away than normal.

Yesterday I decided it was time to face facts, and sat down to have a good cry. Then I remembered. Corvina and Bertram are nesting, and one of them would need to be sitting on the eggs. I quickly found a web site dedicated to bird behavior, hoping to learn that the crow male rather than the female sits on the eggs. Not so. That was it!

Then it suddenly struck me. What if Bertram was actually a female? There's no way I can tell which one is which. I had simply dubbed Bertram as a male when "he" first started coming around, and my own story had become so grooved in my mind that I actually believed it.

Is Bertram really a girl?

I spent the rest of the day trying to believe that this could be true. After 24 hours, I'm starting to accept the idea. How curious is my mind, that I make up a story and then believe it's true, against all evidence!

This probably means a major wardrobe overhaul.

Update: A friend just told me that she watched a crow catch a mouse and eat it. So I was wrong, and they are hunters after all.

Peanuts for Two, Please

Since last fall Bertram has bravely swooshed down each morning and afternoon to retrieve the peanuts I set out for him, while his mate, Corvina, stays on the power line and caws. In the last few days, this has changed, however. Corvina has been getting to the waiting spot on the power line before Bertram, and when I set out the peanuts, she comes down to get some of her own. This could mean that she's learning to trust me a bit, but I expect it's more due to the prospective mother's ravenous hunger.

You see, there's been a flurry of nest-building activity in the tall fir across the street, clear preparations for some little ones. From here, the crows will be able to monitor all my comings and goings, so they'll know exactly when to come down to the power line and remind me of my obligations.

I'm sure looking forward to having young crows around again. At our last house, a family of crows lived in a nearby tree, and the youngsters were fun to watch as they tried to learn to fly and get their own food. That group of crows wasn't afraid of me and would hang out in our yard while I was gardening. Until, that is, I found one of them sitting on the grass in our side yard. He remained there all day, and was clearly either injured or sick. After making a bunch of calls to find an animal rescue center that would take him, I finally connected with the Sarvey Wildlife Center. Bill and I gently picked up the crow and put him in a box, then drove him to a local vet clinic where a Sarvey worker came and got him. I never followed up to see what happened to him because I wouldn't be able to bear hearing he hadn't made it. The rest of the crow family stayed away from us after that, which made me very sad.


While writing this post, I decided to revisit a PBS special about crows. You can watch it here: A Murder of Crows. (BTW, a Murder of crows is a group of them.) It covers some research that shows how highly intelligent crows are and also tells about the crows social and family life, which is closer to that of humans than any other species on the planet. At one point, it showed a crow using its private family "talk," which is used only within it's own circle. I was amazed to see it because that is what Bertram was doing the day I thought he was choking. Now I feel so flattered. At least on that day, he must have been feeling pretty good about me.

(OK, this really burns me. Bill was just reading this post over my shoulder and said that Bertram talks to him with the special family talk, too. Bill is stealing another one of my pets, and he NEVER EVER gives Bertram peanuts! THIS IS NOT FAIR!)

Well, that's all the crow news I've got for today. Except, to save my sister, Jenn, from having to send me a comment about how I should have properly dressed the crows for my blog, here is how I imagine that Corvina and Bertram would have met and fell in love IF they were in fact people dressed up as crows dressed up as people.

Bertie Goes Golfing

All this time I thought that Bill was sort of normal, but it turns out he's exactly like the rest of my family. Maybe that's why I was attracted to him in the first place -- the familiarity and all. Anyway, I told him about my sister Jenn's obsession with Bertram's wardrobe, and instead of laughing along with me, like, "Ha, ha, ha, isn't she weird," he tells me to dress Bertram up in a golf outfit like Payne Stewart!

Maybe Bill's only saying this because he's so weird about golf and is otherwise normal.

Anyway, Bill is sick in bed tonight, so I thought I would cheer him up a bit and made a picture of how Bertram would look dressed up like Payne Stewart.

Here you go, Love. Now Bertie can go golfing with you.

Blame it on Beatrix Potter

My sister Jenn loves to dress up her pets. She used to have tons of little Yorkies running around the house, and they would always be getting their hair done up.

Sometimes the Yorkies' hair would look like this

And sometimes like this, with a fountain on top, reminding me of when my mother used to put my hair in a ponytail because the Yorkies' eyebrows got pulled to the upper part of their foreheads, just like mine did.

Now she has a Chihuahua, named Twinkie for obvious reasons. Twinkie always manages to get more than her fair share of food, even though she's on a strict diet.

If Twinkie looks a little defensive here, it's because Jenn, her son Nate, and three pet store employees just wrestled the cute little pink sweater onto her. The pet store employees are filing for Workmens Comp.

Jenn started this practice at an early age. We used to have Siamese cats, and Jenn would dress them up and push them around in the stroller. To this day, I have no idea how she got away with it. The cats probably just instinctively knew that Jenn's gentle manner is backed up by a cast iron will.

My other sister is a lot more moderate in the pet dress-up department. Her animals just get beautiful, artful, handmade collars, different ones for every holiday and season throughout the year. Oh yes, and beautiful, artful handmade beds. If she sends me a photo of them, I'll post it.

Her daughter, however, has a very pampered pup, undoubtedly the most doted-upon animal in the family. Here she is in her hooded winter jacket, getting ready for the Happy Meal her "mother" is currently buying for her. (I have a sneaking idea that she and her mother regular manis and pedis.)

Our dogs, Rosie and Leo (RIP -- how I miss them!) had coats, but for strictly practical purposes -- to keep their fur somewhat dry in the Seattle winter rains, and thus keep their servants (me and Bill) from getting soaked when they shook. You might gather from this that I am a bit more level-headed in the animal anthropomorphism department than some of my relatives.

Rosie and Leo, aka Bad Dog!

Thus, it didn't cross my mind that I should be plotting against Bertram, figuring out what kind of outfit to dress him up in, in the completely unlikely event that he ever let me get close enough to grab him and stuff his poor little struggling body into some outlandish getup. This did, however, occur to Jenn. She called me the other day, after reading my post Meet Bertram, saying that I should be planning his outfits. Knowing that this would never actually occur in real life, I decided to humor her and ask her advice.

Here you go, Jenn. Is this the idea?

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Was does my family insist on dressing up their pets?

Meet Bertram

Bertram is a very handsome crow that lives on our street with his wife, who is so shy that I still don't know her name. Each morning and each afternoon he lands on the power line that goes from our house to the power pole across the street and patiently waits for me to realize that he has been patiently waiting. He always gets peanuts in the afternoon, but in the morning I sometimes give him cornbread, which he loves so much he almost falls over himself to get it, or rye bread, which he can barely choke down.

This morning when I went outside, the poor nameless yard squirrel was sitting on his haunches, expectantly waiting for something edible to fall on the ground. He looked so adorable sitting there that I couldn't resist giving him a two VERY small pieces of "Bertram's" rye bread. This infuriated Bertram, who ignored the pieces of bread that I balanced on the top of the railing posts next to the front steps for him. Instead, he swooped down to the ground behind the squirrel, grasped some of its tail hair in his beak, and pulled. The squirrel whipped around, and Bertram quickly hopped back out of reach. When the squirrel began nibbling his bread again, Bertram again pulled his tail. This sequence was repeated until the bread was gone and Bertram lost interest.

Bertram then flew over to the railing to choke down some rye bread. About halfway through he started making an unusual clicking sound, followed by something that sounded like a chuckle. He did this over and over until I became so concerned, I put some fresh water out for him. Maybe he really was choking on the rye bread. He ignored the water, but instantly regained his "Caw" when he saw another crow flying too near. I came inside and read up on crow noises. Apparently this is one that they make, and not when they're choking. Maybe it's their version of a laugh. I was certainly laughing about the squirrel episode. Maybe he was too.

PS Someone recently asked me if I made up this story. Nope. It's completely true. Crows are surprisingly intelligent and, believe it or not, they share a lot of social traits with humans. In fact, their social behavior is closer to humans' than any other species on earth. If this interests you, see the PBS video, "A Murder of Crows." Also, I just found this video of a crow pulling a dog's tail: http://www.huffingtonpost.co.uk/2012/08/01/cheeky-crow-creeps-up-on-dog-and-bites-him-on-the-tail_n_1727071.html.