November 18/365 Joe

A black crow greeted visitors to The National Aviary in Pittsburgh. The sign said, of course, to keep one’s fingers out of the cage. I always ignored that. I knew this fine fellow, and there was a spot on the back of his head that particularly needed gentle scratching. I wasn’t a total fool, so I kept alert; when his head moved I was outside his beak-reach instantly. Then he always bobbed his head twice and said “Hello Joe!” over and over. “Look, that crow’s talking!” As a crowd formed, I’d wink at the wise bird and move on.


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