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Fuckin' weird wild animals!
Feb. 20th, 2010 09:27 amI came outside and fed the outside cats (they're old and they like to be fed more than once a day) and the usual retinue of feathered friends showed up. The local magpie family popped by for a visit. They often pick at the dried cat food, then fly off and do their usual hunting and so forth. They're very friendly and sweet and like to talk to you. Come right up to you, those socialible buggers!
Anyway, if the magpies turn up, soon to follow are the ravens. We tend to call them "crows" but they're apparently officially ravens. There's eleven of them that's taken to hanging around, which is odd cause we used to have just the one breeding pair living in the tree above our house. I suspect it might have something to do with Cottesloe's recent rather violent answer to raven overpopulation - shooting them. Which is absolutely bloody ridiculous. They are far too intelligent for that. They just naff off somewhere else, which I suppose solves Cottesloe's problem of having too many ravens around, but doesn't really help with their population numbers.
Anyway, I don't like leaving out too much for the ravens cause they're big piggies. Wolf it all down and leave none for the cats. So I make sure to put out enough for the cats, the magpies pick at the scraps and then if there's any left over, the ravens can try their luck. I can't stop them - believe me, we've tried. We have to put our dried cat food in sealed containers and still the fuckers get into it if they find where we've hid the container.
I don't mind them so much, they're beautiful birds. I just think that they're so clever and savvy as animals, they don't need our help. The magpies sort of give a trade-off of being so personable and friendly. I mean, ours will eat out of our hand. But they don't trust all humans, just the ones they know feed the cats. One actually landed on my Dad's back when he was bending over to feed Melma one time.
Now to the story that this post is named for. I didn't leave enough for the ravens this morning. There's plenty of bugs in the clothes line and the lawn for them to be going on with, and it's much more fun for them to dig around in the dirt and in holes than chasing the wild kibble. I went inside.
It was dark in the lounge, which overlooks the patio and where the birds like to hang out. It also overlooks the clothes line. It's a rotary clothes line with joints in it to fold up. The ravens love sitting on it. So I open the curtains and let the sunshine in.
Anyway, I'm sitting on the couch with the laptop and I feel like I'm being watched. I look up. On the line there's a raven. And the bastard thing is *staring* at me. The fucking thing KEEPS staring at me, for about five to ten minutes. I valiantly ignore it, but it's really unnerving being watched so closely by a known carrion bird.
I cannot fathom why the bird was staring at me. Did it want me to come back out again? Was it just watching me out of idle curiosity? Was it looking for Rogue, who is usually stationed at the window, staring at her favourite thing in the world - birdies? Who knows.
Random comment to end on - I love how raven's eyes are white. That's so awesome.
Anyway, if the magpies turn up, soon to follow are the ravens. We tend to call them "crows" but they're apparently officially ravens. There's eleven of them that's taken to hanging around, which is odd cause we used to have just the one breeding pair living in the tree above our house. I suspect it might have something to do with Cottesloe's recent rather violent answer to raven overpopulation - shooting them. Which is absolutely bloody ridiculous. They are far too intelligent for that. They just naff off somewhere else, which I suppose solves Cottesloe's problem of having too many ravens around, but doesn't really help with their population numbers.
Anyway, I don't like leaving out too much for the ravens cause they're big piggies. Wolf it all down and leave none for the cats. So I make sure to put out enough for the cats, the magpies pick at the scraps and then if there's any left over, the ravens can try their luck. I can't stop them - believe me, we've tried. We have to put our dried cat food in sealed containers and still the fuckers get into it if they find where we've hid the container.
I don't mind them so much, they're beautiful birds. I just think that they're so clever and savvy as animals, they don't need our help. The magpies sort of give a trade-off of being so personable and friendly. I mean, ours will eat out of our hand. But they don't trust all humans, just the ones they know feed the cats. One actually landed on my Dad's back when he was bending over to feed Melma one time.
Now to the story that this post is named for. I didn't leave enough for the ravens this morning. There's plenty of bugs in the clothes line and the lawn for them to be going on with, and it's much more fun for them to dig around in the dirt and in holes than chasing the wild kibble. I went inside.
It was dark in the lounge, which overlooks the patio and where the birds like to hang out. It also overlooks the clothes line. It's a rotary clothes line with joints in it to fold up. The ravens love sitting on it. So I open the curtains and let the sunshine in.
Anyway, I'm sitting on the couch with the laptop and I feel like I'm being watched. I look up. On the line there's a raven. And the bastard thing is *staring* at me. The fucking thing KEEPS staring at me, for about five to ten minutes. I valiantly ignore it, but it's really unnerving being watched so closely by a known carrion bird.
I cannot fathom why the bird was staring at me. Did it want me to come back out again? Was it just watching me out of idle curiosity? Was it looking for Rogue, who is usually stationed at the window, staring at her favourite thing in the world - birdies? Who knows.
Random comment to end on - I love how raven's eyes are white. That's so awesome.
