The summer that I was nine or maybe ten, our family stayed at Gram and Grampa's House. We spent a lot of summer time there. My dad was in the Navy and we lived out-of-state most of the time and Gram and Gramp had an Olympic sized pool so when summer time came, off to Michigan we would travel to be pampered and spoiled and loved. But that particular summer was even more special to me. A crow kept coming to visit us around the pool and as time went on he became bolder and bolder stealing anything shiny or bright that he could fly away with, bits of tin foil, a toy car.
Now I was a kid that would play with a garter snake or a leopard frog all day long and Oh Joy! if I found a field mouse! I just had to make that crow mine! I didn't try to capture it because it was a wild creature and it needed to be free (read: the grown ups didn't want to deal with a pet crow!) By the end of the summer Jim and I were best buddies (in my mind). I would run outside first thing in the morning, still in my PJ's, to greet MY bird and more often than not he was there! One of his favorite things to do was to sit on my head and peck me. And Yes, it hurt but I knew he didn't mean to peck that hard, he loved me as much as I loved him, after all.