Marvin and Mavis News

August 12, 2021 / The Urban Nature Enthusiast / 10 Comments

Marvin and Mavis have had more than their share of nesting tragedy over the years. They’ve lost hatchlings to bald eagles, raccoons and cars. One particularly sad year, their only fledgling left the nest too soon and didn’t survive the landing. Marvin and Mavis seemed to have the hardest time accepting that particular loss, sitting and peering into the nest for days after, as if hoping the baby would magically reappear.

For a while it looked as if this year was heading down the same sorrowful path.

Things started happily enough, with a fledgling sighting in front of our house on the evening of July 18. I took a couple of photos of the new baby hopping in the flower bed and left the protective parents to it.

But when took a last peek out of the front door to see if they were OK before going to bed, I was just in time to see the fledgling flapping about across the street and crashing into a neighbour’s garden gate. Marvin and Mavis were beside themselves. With sinking heart, I went over to to see what had happened. The little bird was lying motionless and looking quite dead, just inside the gate. The neighbour came out onto her balcony and we discussed the situation, deciding to leave the body till morning — especially given that the parents were clearly distraught.

It was such a sad end to the day, and a seemingly very short life story for this little bird.

I was up first thing next morning, prepared for the worst — but there was no trace of the baby crow — not a single feather, nor any other evidence that I hadn’t dreamed the whole thing. Absolutely no sign of Marvin and Mavis. Later in the day I checked in with the neighbour and she told me she’d gone out after dark the evening before and there was no sign of any crows by then, living or dead.

All was very quiet for a day or two , but then one morning I woke up to the softest crow conversation I’d ever heard going on in a tree near the house. Little mewing sounds and soft quacks were being answered by very soft, almost raven-complex, murmurings from M & M. I honestly have rarely heard anything so lovely.

I peered up between the leaves, and there was this little face.

I’d been clinging to the very faint hope that the fledgling had just been stunned and given time to come round, had been whisked away by Marvin and Mavis. That just seemed too much to wish for, and yet . . .

In the next day or so, it almost seemed as if I heard an echo of the baby’s calls. A second fledgling really seemed far too much to hope for and I never could see more than one at once, given the jigsaw of leaves the family was hiding in.

But then, a day or so later, on the neighbour’s roof, incontrovertible proof . . . a pair!

It’s been so very hot and dry, I’ve been constantly providing fresh water for drinking and bathing. Also popping out every hour or so to see if I can still see or hear both of them has become the routine of the summer.

“Still two” is my relieved report after each outing.

Different baby crow personalities emerged almost from the beginning.

One of them seemed to need a lot more attention in the early days.
In the video below, mom and dad are both engaged in soft preening to try and sooth those sad little calls.

Meanwhile, the other fledgling seemed more of an explorer, enthusiastically collecting data on that essential “is this food or just fun?” research project while Marvin and Mavis were otherwise engaged.

As the days go by, both of the babies, even the initially needy one, are starting to get more independent.

You can see that the wings aren’t fully developed yet which, along with inexperience, is why the fledglings are not yet super proficient at flying.

Looking around at the big new world

Sometimes Marvin and Mavis even get a few moments to themselves now, while the siblings entertain themselves nearly — although one here seems more interested in napping than playing.

Sometimes the kids go off on their own down the street …

. . . while mom and dad ask themselves that question common to all new and exhausted parents, “what have we gotten ourselves into?”

More updates coming soon!

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Keep. Your Cat. Inside.

August 4, 2021August 4, 2021 / The Urban Nature Enthusiast / 24 Comments

Apologies in advance for the rather emotional blog post to follow.

I had planned a rather more joyful one about all the local crow babies, including two belonging to Marvin and Mavis. I have hundreds of photos, and posts will be coming soon, but this morning I am upset.

Every morning, when I’m out walking the dog in the early hours, I see cats in the neighbourhood. Many of them are clearly in hunting mode.

Early today I watched in horror as a cat about half a block ahead of us clawed excitedly at a baby bird on the sidewalk as the fledgling fought to get away. Although I am not one of nature’s runners, I pelted, with Geordie, towards the cat, yelling like a maniac. The cat kept right on toying with the bird until we were a foot away, when it backed off a very short distance. The bird (a juvenile starling, I think) hobbled off into a nearby grapevine. The cat stayed close, waiting for us to leave so he could finish his mission. I stayed there and called Phillip to come from home with a box and towel. The bird clearly had a broken wing, so I tried to capture him for delivery to Wildlife Rescue, but failed, and the bird flapped off into a dense brush area. I spent a long time looking for him, but eventually had to give up, feeling by now that I’d made the poor bird’s fate even worse than if I’d just let the cat get it in the first place. I’m feeling very sad and guilty about that.

But I also feel angry.

It’s upsetting when an eagle gets a baby crow, or a crow snatches a baby robin, but I know they’re just doing it to feed themselves and their family. A cat killing a bird is not a legitimate part of this circle of life and death. A cat will not cleanly kill a bird to eat it — it will maximize the entertainment by playing with it first. The cat is not hungry. It’s a pet, fed and pampered at home and is out killing wildlife recreationally.

I know this sounds hard, but it’s the truth.

I love cats. Cats are wonderful, and anyone who knows me knows I adore our cat, Edgar.

Many cat owners contend that their particular pet is too gentle, too lazy, or too old to be a hunter of birds. You may tell yourself that, but I present our aforementioned genteel Edgar as proof to the contrary. Although he’s an indoor cat, Edgar is allowed onto our back deck, under supervision, where he usually lays in the sun, keeping out of trouble except for the occasional verbal exchange with the crows.

One day, however, he accidentally got left out there for a couple of hours by himself and by the time we figured out where he was, I found him sitting, looking pleased with himself, beside a beautiful, but very dead, juvenile yellow warbler. Clearly the baby bird had landed near him on the deck and nature just kicked in. Not Edgar’s fault. Mine for leaving him out there and allowing it to happen.

Thirty years ago we had another cat; Elvis. At that point, we hadn’t realized the perils for both cat and wildlife, and allowed him to be an outdoor cat. Some vivid memories of Elvis: the time he brought a live pigeon into the house when I was home alone with a newborn and a two year old; the time he got sliced open by a raccoon and cost us several mortgage payments to have him sewn up again; the sad day we found him dead in a neighbour’s garden, having drunk anti-freeze that someone allowed to drain into the gutter.

Elvis lived outdoors, and to my regret, probably killed hundreds of birds, as well as suffering through, and finally dying from, his neighbourhood adventures. I will never have an outdoor cat again.

Please.

Keep.

Your Cat.

Inside.

Some Reading:

Some tips on bringing an outside cat indoors (Humane Society of the US)
Cats the Number One Killer of Birds in Canada (CBC, 2015)
The Moral Cost of Cats (Smithsonian, 2017)

I shouldn’t really be writing a blog post, having promised myself that I will dedicate this month to (a) getting the City Crow Calendar 2022 ready to go the printer and (b) finishing my upcoming Crow Therapy online presentation.

But it’s crow fledgling season out there and therefore hard to stay on task. As justification for the distraction, one small drama currently playing out meshes rather well with aspects of my Crow Therapy talk.

It concerns periscopes and perspectives

As we go about our day, periscope firmly pointed in the direction of human life goals — not being late for a meeting, what to make for dinner, what’s going to happen next in our favourite TV show — it can come as a bit of a shock to be attacked out of nowhere by a crow.

As always at this time of year there are lots of news stories and tweets about “harrowing” experiences with “crazed” crows. I guess it can seem like that if it comes out of the blue.

But crow nesting season is a perfect time to swivel the periscope in your personal submarine and take in a different view.

There have been some screams from the end of our street lately. The elementary school there is currently being used as a training centre for School Board staff so there’s a lot of coming and going. At least one unsuspecting person has been pursued by furious crows.

Mabel and her mate to be specific.

Frazzled parent, Mabel

From the point of view of the dive-bombee, the crows have inexplicably gone bonkers and need to be restrained in some way.

But (swivel periscope … c-r-e-a-k) let’s look at the situation from Mabel’s point of view.

Mabel and mate have been tending a nest just across the street from the school since April. Early this week their fledgling (probably against parental advice) exited the safety of the nest and took refuge in a small bush right on the corner of school. Junior can’t yet fly enough to get into a tree, or onto of the school roof, leaving them heartbreakingly vulnerable in a terribly high traffic area.

At one point, I’m told by a neighbour, a landscaping crew heedlessly started weed whacking in the area!!!

From the point of view of Mabel and her mate, people are definitely bonkers and need to be restrained in whatever way possible.

The innocent people walking into work don’t have any idea where all this avian wrath is coming from. Minds inevitably turn to Hitchcockian scenes of malevolent bird invasions.

Mabel and her mate just know that people are deeply unpredictable and often dangerous.

They might step on their baby without even noticing, or back their car over it, they might let their dog or cat attack it, they might inexplicably assault the bushes in which the baby is hiding with a foliage chopping hell machine. You can’t make this stuff up!

So, if warning caws are ignored, humans must be kept away from the fledgling using the only way open to crow parents — the time honoured dive bomb technique.

I’ve attempted to bridge the understanding gap by explaining to a human person from the school what is going on, so hopefully periscopes will be redirected on the human side.

At least until Junior here figures out the flying thing.