Kinda cool

@silvermouse said:

Even cooler…

Our does this go in the “What did you get today” thread?

One of these days I'll have to tell you the story about Joe the Crow, a family pet when I was maybe 12 years old.

@silvermouse said:

“Even for me as a nest researcher, these are the craziest bird nests I’ve ever seen,” says biologist Auke-Florian Hiemstra in a Twitter thread outlining examples of how birds have reused, repurposed or ripped out anti-bird infrastructure. “Some birds are just done with our stupid spikes.” (Alexander Schippers/Naturalis Biodiversity Center)

https://www.theguardian.com/science/2023/jul/11/crows-and-magpies-show-their-metal-by-using-anti-bird-spikes-to-build-nests

He apparently likes nests so much he grew one on top of his head

When I was 10 or so, my dad (who would've been ~40 and was a tool and die maker at the time) had a co-worker who told my dad about how he caught a young crow and domesticated it - sort of. So, Dad, who like me can't avoid fulfillment of a desire once the thought hits me, found a crow's nest up a tall oak in the woods behind our house and stole a young crow. It turned out, that crow was already a bit too old and didn't fall for the "we'll feed you if you make our home yours" routine and it left after a few days. The following year, Dad repeated the quest but moved it up on the calendar and kidnapped a younger bird, which we named Joe the Crow. Mom hated it because it would crap this yellow slurry in the house, but that resolved itself soon, once Joe could fly and live outside. You can imagine how having a pet crow would garner lots of coolness for me and my siblings from the neighborhood kids. Joe liked sliced cheese and raw hamburger, and if you stood in the yard holding some in your outstretched hand he would swoop down and grab it. One day, Joe showed up holding an earring in his foot; after the word got around about the earring a neighbor came to claim it, they'd had a yard party and one of their guests lost the earring and so she got it back. I'm fuzzy on how long we actually had Joe, but I'd say a month. It was all good, until one day Joe was on the other side of the neighborhood trying to play with some other kids (I surmised) and their dad didn't see it that way. He caught him with a fishing net and clubbed him to death. Word got back to us and my dad went to retrieve Joe. Then, my dad being the spiteful/creative man he was, told me to round up all the kids I could and had us walk a funeral procession past the killer's house carrying Joe's bier which was just an old shoebox. So Joe got buried in the backyard, and for whatever reason, Dad figured that was enough of keeping a pet crow.

And now you know the rest of the story.

I believe that's how you're supposed to hold a fish while you're being photographed so that it appears as big as possible.

There's been many times I wish I had one of these things...