Bird-on-Bird Crime
May 7, 2022
I HEARD an alarming thud on the front door. I quickly went and looked through the glass.
Laying on the walkway on the other side was a mourning dove, his beautiful, multi-colored plumage splayed around him on the ground like a majestic cloak. His chest was heaving. These were the final moments of his life.
Perched darkly on a branch above was a sinister-looking black crow, larger than I have ever seen before, making me wonder whether it was something else (a raven perhaps?).
“Murderer!” I yelled.
He cawed back at me. A thug, and nothing more.
From the way he adjusted his wings, it was obvious he had just landed after a chase. He had been chasing the dove, causing him to crash into the door. The dove breathed his last a few minutes later. The crow remained on the branch. I’m sure he wanted to rip apart his victim. I picked the dove gently up and lay him in a box.
Human beings do much for birds with bird feeders and bird baths. We try to do our part. But we don’t do a thing really to prevent bird-on-bird crime, which is shockingly common.
I once saw a hawk tear a blue jay to shreds in our backyard. There was nothing I could do. It happened so fast and within minutes there were only a few feathers left.
The other day my husband saw a robin-sized bird — he wasn’t sure what — standing on a bird house where a pair of wrens have been setting up their nest. My husband waved the intruder away, but could he stand guard all day? It would be nice if he could because some birds steal and consume the eggs of others. To us, birds seem to be soaring and diving and flitting around all day. It looks so easy and fun. But they have to worry about their own version of muggers, burglars and carjackers much more than we have to worry about such things.
I’m not a trained birdwatcher, but I can see that birds for good reason spend a large part of their time looking over their “shoulders.” We look both ways when we cross the street. They look both ways before they take a sip of water. They look both ways before they eat our grass seeds. They look both ways before they hop from one branch to another. I can’t really blame them for defecating on our car and mailbox. They are constantly on the run. The smaller the bird, the more nervous it is. They must be vigilant. Danger lurks everywhere and there is really no such thing as a completely safe neighborhood.
Why can’t birds just get along? Mostly they do.
But some species thrive on causing havoc and they ruin it for everyone else. I saw a tiny baby sparrow with a dark red cap on its head outside our front window yesterday. It was wandering around aimlessly and no adults were in sight. Was he an orphan? Could it have been that darn crow or some other predator who destroyed his loving parents?
I wish the good and gentle birds who don’t engage in criminal acts could take some reasonable steps to organize and protect themselves. But it seems they are all tragically destined to remain defenseless and to live in a world without bird cops. And so, many birds can never truly relax or let their guards down — except perhaps in those exhausted moments when the day is done and they are snug in their nests or in a hiding place in the brush. Criminals have to sleep too.
The world — since the other day — has one less mourning dove in it. This is sad because there are never too many.
When I hear the others make their lovely, sorrowful calls, I know what they mean. They are referring to their friend, his life cut short by a thoroughly bad character who will never appear before a judge or see the inside of a jail.
— Comments —
Dianne writes:
This should be in every newspaper.
Laura writes:
These hate crimes are outrageously under-reported.
It’s a massive cover-up. Even in the alternative media.
