Since moving to Wyoming, I’ve developed some interesting friendships—one of the first happened completely by accident.
The “accident” was a young crow that got stuck in my window well and couldn’t get out. He flapped and flailed with everything he had but just couldn’t gSince moving Wyoming I have developed some interesting friendships. My first one happened purely by accident. The accident was that a young crow got stuck in my window well and couldn’t get out. He tried as hard as he could but couldn’t get enough height to get out. I had two choices and both were championed by others. et enough height to escape. I had two options, both loudly endorsed by different parties.
On one side was my wife, Dawn, who insisted I do nothing because, as she put it, “They’re filthy!” On the other side? A group of crows perched on the neighbor’s roof, clearly invested in the situation. Both camps were squawking at me to either act—or stay out of it—and to hurry up about it.
My son-in-law came up with the perfect name: Edgar Allan Crow.
I ended up siding with the crows. I grabbed a trash can lid, scooped Edgar up, and helped him out of the well. He turned back, let out a loud “thank you” (or maybe a warning—I prefer to think it was thanks), and flew off to join his feathered friends.
That could have easily been the end of it. But I’ve since learned that crows have excellent memories and can form attachments to people. Apparently, Edgar imprinted on me. Ever since, he’s been a regular in our backyard—and he often brings friends along. I suspect they were part of that rooftop audience the day I rescued him.
Now, this has sparked an ongoing debate with my wife. She insists it’s just random crows passing through. But I know it’s Edgar. I recognize his voice—it’s a little raspier than the others—and there’s this small patch of feathers that never quite lays right. He’s become a familiar face on the deck.
I’m sure the neighbors think I’ve lost it, standing outside and chatting with a crow. But hey, I have other deck friends too. One of these days, I’ll have to tell you about Rocky the squirrel.