owner for an old dog. They’re just—”
“Daddy, I—” Keisha couldn’t help herself. It just came out of her mouth. Wouldn’t it be perfect? She could help rehabilitate this little dog, and then instead of releasing her into the wild, they could release her to the Carter family couch.
“I see where you’re going with this.” Mrs. Sampson was looking directly at Grandma. “But I can’t take care of a crow and a dog.”
“While the Humane Society does have a shortage of volunteers to take care of high-needs dogs, we do havetwo volunteers to watch over this crow.” Daddy pointed to the front door. “And they’re waiting in a tree outside. Jorge, do you think you can provide some evidence of this to Mrs. Sampson? We’ll have to go out on the front porch.”
“But can we leave the dog alone?”
“Oh, she’s as comfortable as she can be, Mrs. Sampson,” Grandma said.
Jorge, Mr. Sanders, Mama, Daddy, Grandma, Big Bob and Mrs. Sampson gathered together on Mrs. Sampson’s front porch. They stood quietly, looking at the trees.
“First, let’s get their attention,” Daddy said to Jorge. “Why don’t you sprint over to the mailbox?”
Jorge ran across the yard, stopping about ten feet from the mailbox. Up in the trees, the crows came alive. They didn’t dive down on Jorge, because he wasn’t close enough to endanger their baby, but they sure did put up a racket.
“I’m inviting them to my next New Year’s Eve party,” Grandma said. “They’ll do a much better job than pots and pans of making a hullabaloo when the ball drops in Times Square.”
“Okay, go.” Quick as a wink, Daddy uncovered the baby crow’s head and held him, pointing in the direction of the trees. Jorge began making his noises, onlythis time they weren’t loud throat noises, they were little awping baby crow noises. The birds got very agitated. They circled Jorge and dropped down to branches closer and closer, responding in vocalizations Keisha had never heard crows make before. They were longer drawn-out caaaaaaws.
The baby crow struggled in the towel, but Daddy had him wrapped up tight. Except for his head. His glossy little head with the rock candy eyes turned this way and that, looking out at the big wide world.
“Awp, awp!” As soon as he started making noise, Daddy covered his head and took him back inside. The adult crows seemed confused. One landed right on the mailbox and pecked at it. Another soared to a tree closer to the porch.
“We don’t need mama and daddy dive-bombing your front porch, Mrs. Sampson. Now do you see?”
Mrs. Sampson took off her glasses and polished them with her apron.
“I suppose we could give it a try,” Mrs. Sampson said at last. “But my old eyes won’t be able to keep track of him if he’s not right in front of me.”
Daddy patted Mrs. Sampson’s shoulder. “You don’t have to worry about that, Mrs. Sampson. We weren’t able to build a nest with all that was going on this morning, but maybe we can rig something that willkeep him protected until he’s ready to be on his own. As you can see, his crow family stands ready to protect him.”
“We don’t have to rig a thing,” Grandma said. “I came prepared. Keisha, go out to Bob’s car and bring me what’s on the backseat, please.”
Keisha ran out to the car, taking care not to go anywhere near the mailbox. She opened the backseat door only to find Grandma’s straw bag, the one she used to carry sunblock and swim caps to the pool. Surely she couldn’t be thinking … Keisha brought the bag into the house.
“That’s it, one ready-made crow nest.”
“But this is your favorite pool bag,” Mama protested.
“Correction, it
was
my favorite pool bag. According to Marilyn Kirschner of The Look On-Line, straw bags are seriously OL. I want to re-purpose this bag to be a baby crow sling.” Grandma squinted and put her hand to her forehead like a visor.
“Look out there. We can hang him on the laundry line.
“Daddy, I—” Keisha couldn’t help herself. It just came out of her mouth. Wouldn’t it be perfect? She could help rehabilitate this little dog, and then instead of releasing her into the wild, they could release her to the Carter family couch.
“I see where you’re going with this.” Mrs. Sampson was looking directly at Grandma. “But I can’t take care of a crow and a dog.”
“While the Humane Society does have a shortage of volunteers to take care of high-needs dogs, we do havetwo volunteers to watch over this crow.” Daddy pointed to the front door. “And they’re waiting in a tree outside. Jorge, do you think you can provide some evidence of this to Mrs. Sampson? We’ll have to go out on the front porch.”
“But can we leave the dog alone?”
“Oh, she’s as comfortable as she can be, Mrs. Sampson,” Grandma said.
Jorge, Mr. Sanders, Mama, Daddy, Grandma, Big Bob and Mrs. Sampson gathered together on Mrs. Sampson’s front porch. They stood quietly, looking at the trees.
“First, let’s get their attention,” Daddy said to Jorge. “Why don’t you sprint over to the mailbox?”
Jorge ran across the yard, stopping about ten feet from the mailbox. Up in the trees, the crows came alive. They didn’t dive down on Jorge, because he wasn’t close enough to endanger their baby, but they sure did put up a racket.
“I’m inviting them to my next New Year’s Eve party,” Grandma said. “They’ll do a much better job than pots and pans of making a hullabaloo when the ball drops in Times Square.”
“Okay, go.” Quick as a wink, Daddy uncovered the baby crow’s head and held him, pointing in the direction of the trees. Jorge began making his noises, onlythis time they weren’t loud throat noises, they were little awping baby crow noises. The birds got very agitated. They circled Jorge and dropped down to branches closer and closer, responding in vocalizations Keisha had never heard crows make before. They were longer drawn-out caaaaaaws.
The baby crow struggled in the towel, but Daddy had him wrapped up tight. Except for his head. His glossy little head with the rock candy eyes turned this way and that, looking out at the big wide world.
“Awp, awp!” As soon as he started making noise, Daddy covered his head and took him back inside. The adult crows seemed confused. One landed right on the mailbox and pecked at it. Another soared to a tree closer to the porch.
“We don’t need mama and daddy dive-bombing your front porch, Mrs. Sampson. Now do you see?”
Mrs. Sampson took off her glasses and polished them with her apron.
“I suppose we could give it a try,” Mrs. Sampson said at last. “But my old eyes won’t be able to keep track of him if he’s not right in front of me.”
Daddy patted Mrs. Sampson’s shoulder. “You don’t have to worry about that, Mrs. Sampson. We weren’t able to build a nest with all that was going on this morning, but maybe we can rig something that willkeep him protected until he’s ready to be on his own. As you can see, his crow family stands ready to protect him.”
“We don’t have to rig a thing,” Grandma said. “I came prepared. Keisha, go out to Bob’s car and bring me what’s on the backseat, please.”
Keisha ran out to the car, taking care not to go anywhere near the mailbox. She opened the backseat door only to find Grandma’s straw bag, the one she used to carry sunblock and swim caps to the pool. Surely she couldn’t be thinking … Keisha brought the bag into the house.
“That’s it, one ready-made crow nest.”
“But this is your favorite pool bag,” Mama protested.
“Correction, it
was
my favorite pool bag. According to Marilyn Kirschner of The Look On-Line, straw bags are seriously OL. I want to re-purpose this bag to be a baby crow sling.” Grandma squinted and put her hand to her forehead like a visor.
“Look out there. We can hang him on the laundry line.
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