Why do I love ravens so? To most they are disgusting birds that will eat anything alive or dead. They are also messengers of doom and gloom to the faint of heart. Edgar Allen Poe certainly didn’t help the poor bird’s image either.
I look at them as earth’s garbage disposal…especially when I go to the dump where they thrive on our garbage. They are for in fact very intelligent and can be a good friend if raised from a gosling. I should know – I raised three that way.
My little fellows would sit on the split rail fence waiting for me to present myself with their daily ration of Skippy’s dog food. Oh, how they loved that stuff. When finished, they would fly off to do whatever ravens do all day.
When I came home from work, they would fly to greet me by landing in the bed of the truck and climb through the rear window to be with me. Sitting on the passenger’s seat, they would squawk and peck at each other to see who got to ride shotgun with the window open. I finally gave up cleaning poop off the seat. Plastic worked better and could be washed off daily. The little critters are poop machines and there is no housebreaking these characters.
The game warden would come by occasionally and confiscate my feathered friends because it was illegal to keep them as pets. They didn’t live inside the cabin…how could they be pets? In any case, they would always find their way back home much to the chagrin of the warden. He finally gave up and turned a blind eye to my crime.
They disappeared one at a time until they were all gone. I suspect they found mates and went back into the wild. Oh, I would see an occasional raven perched on the fence, but I am sure it wasn’t one of the ones I raised. It would not come to the porch for it’s favorite dog food. I was glad actually, their place in nature is more important than my attachment to them. I miss them to this very day and this adventure happened over 50 years ago.
I’m just saying,