Local Crow Files Formal Complaint About Bird Feeder

A two-year-old crow operating out of a medium-sized oak at the edge of Hawthorn Park has filed a formal complaint about what it calls the “deteriorating standards” of the bird feeder at the corner house. The complaint, delivered in person from the fence post at seven o’clock yesterday morning, lasted about four minutes and was, according to neighbours, considerably louder than it needed to be. Two joggers stopped to listen. One took notes.

The crow, who asked to be identified only by its hopping cadence, says it has visited the feeder daily for eleven months. “In spring it was sunflower seeds, peanuts in the shell, the occasional cracker,” it said. “Now we get this. What is this. This is bulk millet.” It then held up a single millet seed to the kitchen window as evidence, before eating it, in what its supporters later called a procedural error. The crow says it will not be silenced, and so far it has not been.

The complaint lists three grievances. First, the seed-to-suet ratio, described as “frankly insulting.” Second, the new squirrel baffle, which the crow says “treats every visitor as a suspect.” Third, and most seriously, the homeowner’s recent habit of waving at the feeder from the kitchen, which the crow interprets as gloating. A formal request for the return of peanuts has been lodged, in the form of a shiny bottle cap left on the patio table. The bottle cap has not been acknowledged.

A spokes-sparrow for the feeder declined to comment but was seen eating the millet with visible enthusiasm. Asked about the sparrow’s position, the crow performed a small, dismissive head tilt that local birdwatchers are still debating. The squirrel named in the second grievance could not be reached, having last been seen upside down on the baffle, apparently studying it for weaknesses. Its lawyer is believed to be another squirrel. The homeowner has promised to review the situation over the weekend.

The comedy works because crows really do seem to keep score. People who feed birds often notice that crows learn routines quickly, turn up at the right time, recognise the person with the food and make their feelings known when something changes. Many garden watchers have stories of small objects left behind, or of a noisy protest on the morning the good food ran out. Whether it is gratitude or strategy, it certainly feels personal. A crow that has been treated well tends to keep coming back, and so, in its own way, does one that has not.

So if a crow ever stares at you from a fence post with an air of quiet disappointment, it may be worth checking the feeder. You are probably being judged, and not entirely unfairly. A handful of unsalted peanuts, served on time, is the fastest way back into the good books of the neighbourhood’s most observant resident, and possibly the only way to stop the complaint being repeated at seven o’clock tomorrow morning.