I HAVE A NEIGHBOR A COUPLE OF DOORS DOWN THAT I TALK TO almost daily. She’s in her late 70s and lives with her husband. She walks her golden retriever several times a day and we have become good friends over the years - she, I and Emylou, her pooch. When I see them I will go outside, no matter what the weather, and we’ll talk awhile. If it’s not raining we’ll pull up a couple of lawn chairs and visit for twenty or thirty minutes sometimes. She and I are the great bird lovers on our long block. We both love crows too, which some folks don’t so much. For years she has fed a family of crows on her back deck. She will lightly spread some peanut butter on a couple of slices of bread and the crows will come and get it and feed their young. They are so comfortable that they’ll light right next to her cat and the golden, no fear at all.
There have been a number of families of crows she’s fed over the years. She will recognize them and their young and see them evolve and sometimes disappear as they get older. And she has a little box of the gifts they’ve brought her over time; polished stones, colorful pieces of glass and even costume jewelry. At least she assumes it’s costume jewelry. Maybe she ought to have a couple of those stones looked at.
Yesterday Claudia, my friend, was working in her lovely garden of a back yard when she noticed an old crow she’d known for years was following her around. That was unusual. Though the crows trust her, they don’t usually hop and walk around behind her as she works. This one did. She noticed something that she has seen before when crows get very old, his feet had growths on them, misshaped and distorted. She walked up onto the deck to get something and noticed that the crow hopped up to the bottom step and just looked at her. She talked to him and went into the house and made a little dish of cat food. She reached down slowly and he began to eat it right out of her hand. None had ever done that before. He ate the entire dish and then she got him some water, though the crows usually drink at her bird feeder. He drank and then he hopped underneath the bottom step, where he seemed to feel sheltered and safe. Claudia talked to him and then went into the house and brought out an old towel and folded it near him. He just watched her. After watching him for a little while longer she went inside. The next morning she came back down and he had died, as she’d thought he would, but first he’d laid on her warm, dry towel. That is where she found him.
She told me and I got tears in my eyes. Not that a crow died, though if I knew one as personally as she does, I would certainly cry when he died. But I got tears in my eyes because of the beautiful trust between them. She is a kind and loving woman. And that old crow chose her to go to when he was dying. I cannot see that as a small thing. I see it as a wonder. I see it as trust as big and beautiful as trust can be. It is a high honor to a human being that a wild creature turns to her, trusting in her kindness at the end of his life. I am so grateful to Claudia for telling me the story. I hope it touches you as it did me. ~ Michael Tomlinson
Saw this on the Ontario Bird page and thought I'd share! Unreal!! 
