An interview with the crow that wakes me up at 5 am every morning
Me: Hey
Crow: Caw!
Me: You got a name?
Crow: Poe
Me: Oh Jesus Christ…
Crow: Hehe, caw.
Me: So, what’s your deal?
Crow: What do you mean?
Me: The fucking cawing, man. Every morning at 5 am. Sometimes earlier. Non-stop perched on the powerlines in the backyard.
Crow: Ok, first of all, caw. Secondly, the power lines I perch on are city property, and I’m legally allowed to do that.
Me: You don’t know city code ordinances.
Crow: Don’t I?
Me: No, you don’t. You’re just a crow.
Crow: Just a crow?!?
(A symphony of crow caws breaks out as a murder of crows appears out of nowhere)
Crow: Hey, fellas! Looks like we got ourselves a crowist over here!
Me: A crowist?
Crow: Yeah, anti-crow. Lemme guess, caw, you think we’re just big dumb birds that make a lot of noise and poop all over your backyard and cars, right? Caw.
Me: Yeah, because you do that.
Crow: Yeah, WE can say we do that. Not you, pal!
(More chorused crow cawing ensues from the aforementioned amassed murder)
Me: Alright, alright! Keep it down! What, you expect me to believe you have robust social structures and tight-knit familial bonds, coupled with the ability to solve complex problems using tools and cognitive reasoning?
Crow: That’s PRECISELY what I expect you to believe. Do you have any idea what we’re capable of? Caw. Do you have even the faintest clue as to the complexities of our day-to-day survival?
Me: No, but I get the feeling you’re going to tell me.
Crow: We are a proud species of the genus Corvus. We have evolved over millennia to adapt to the world around us, a world increasingly dominated by humans such as yourself. Through thousands of years of trial and error, caw, our cognitive capabilities have adapted to increasingly more difficult and complex tasks, breathing new life into the repressive term “bird brain”.
Me: And which complex and difficult task is the cawing at the ass-crack of dawn?
Crow: You rube. You callous phillistine, caw. What may sound like errant “cawing” to you masks a richly diverse vernacular of communication. Across city blocks, caw, we’re able to speak with one another. Warn each other of pending danger or potential predators. Also, where good piles of trash food are located.
Me: And what’s so vitally important and pressing that you find the need to be speaking to each other every single morning at 5 am?
Crow: Oh, that’s just to annoy you.
(The amassed murder being cawing in a manner that feels like laughter)
Me: What the hell?
Crow: Yeah, so in addition to all of those other impressive things I told you about, we’re vengeful too.
Me: Vengeful? What the hell did I do?
Crow: You were mean to Steve, caw.
Me: Steve? Who the fuck is Steve?
Crow: Steve pooped all over your car, and you cursed at him before cleaning it all off. Steve was very hurt by that, caw.
Me: What do you expect?!? My car was absolutely covered in bird shit!
Crow: Steve has Crow’ns, he can’t control when or how voluminous his evacuations are!
Me: It was all over the Porsche! I’d spent 3 hours that day washing and detailing it!
Crow: Steve was sorry. He knows how much that Turbo means to you.
Me: Wait, you know it’s a Turbo? How can you tell?
Crow: Because of the way it is.
Me: I mean, yeah, obviously.
Crow: Listen, I think we got off on the wrong talon. We don’t really want to be at war with you. You seem like nice people. I feel like having this discussion may have helped you see things, caw, from our perspective a bit more?
Me: Yeah, I guess I really had no idea how smart you all are. I just assumed you were simple creatures.
Crow: Hardly.
Me: Ok, well, what if I started leaving little treats out for you guys?
Crow: We love treats, caw. What do you have in mind?
Me: I dunno, peanuts?
Crow: Are they in or out of the shell?
Me: They’re in the shell, I bought an industrial-size bag of them a year ago as a goof when I was Waymo’ing back from the Dodger game after too many big beers.
Crow: You hear that, everyone? Peanuts in the shell!!
(The amassed murder begin cawing jubilantly)
Me: Is that a good thing?
Crow: A protected treat that requires complex problem solving to uncase it from its shelled prison? It’s perfect.
Me: Ok, cool, so like, are we good?
Crow: Yes, we’re good.
Me: No more cawing at 5 am?
Crow: No more cawing at 5 am.
Me: And no more pooping on the cars?
Crow: I can’t make any promises on Steve’s behalf.
Me: Fair enough.
Crow. Caw.