The following is a brief status report on my mission to befriend crows. For context, you can find my original plan statement here.
It has been approximately three weeks since I installed the Crow Plate Pole in my yard, gave it the awkward name of “Crow Plate Pole”, threw some peanuts on the Crow Plate Pole’s pole plate, and waited for the crows to come a knockin’. My optimism was sky high, but sadly my naivety soared even higher.
Thus far, not a single crow has stopped by to dine on the delicious 10-15 unsalted peanuts that I’ve faithfully and consistently provided every morning at 7am without fail. I’ve not even seen a crow anywhere near the vicinity of the Crow Plate Pole, meaning that I’ve been wearing my stupid brimmed crow hat every morning for no one but my neighbors.
Crow Plate Pole
In fact, there’s been two times now that I’ve stepped outside promptly at 7am with my dumb little baggie of peanuts, wearing pajamas and this stupid hat, only to spot a neighbor getting into his car. The first time, I turned around and went back inside. The second time I said screw it and continued my duty of depositing 10-15 unsalted peanuts on a plate on a pole in the side of my yard.
That officially makes one neighbor who is now talking about me at the breakfast table, with more to come.
The first week was quiet. Each morning I’d plop the peanuts out on the plate, and each night I’d remove them from the plate so that I could replop them on the plate the next morning. That way, the crows would grow comfortable with my procedure. If there were crows around to observe my procedure, which there were not.
The second week revealed signs of activity. I noticed that some of the peanuts would go missing from the Crow Plate Pole’s pole plate throughout the day. But still, no crows detected. Were they swooping in, grabbing their prize from the pole plate, and making a quick escape? That would make sense, seeing as they didn’t know me yet, and might not have observed my crow hat to understand that I am cool. Or was something more nefarious going on?
I needed answers.
Crow Hat
I set up a camera outside, which we will call the CrowPro, pointed at the Crow Plate Pole and its surrounding environment. It didn’t take long for the “Motion detected” alerts to swarm my phone. I checked the tapes and I didn’t like what I saw. Not at all. It was a squirrel. Snooping around the vicinity of the Crow Plate Pole, trying to gain access to the plate atop the plate pole. His evil efforts left him unrewarded, at least according to the plate tapes. I wisely refrained from proclaiming victory, though. Something was up, and now was not the time to sit back and relax.
The next day there were empty peanut shells on the Adirondack chairs near the Crow Plate Pole. Were the crows retrieving them from the plate atop the Crow Plate Pole and leaving them there to let me know that they’d received my gift? To thank me? Or were the squirrels leaving them there to let me know that they’d stolen my gift? To taunt me? The evidence on the CrowPro tapes proved inconclusive. My gut continued to tell me what the tapes could not – things were not ok. Things were very much not ok.
At the start of Week 3, shortly after dutifully dropping off 10-15 unsalted peanuts on the plate atop the Crow Plate Pole’s pole, I was greeted by a new barrage of “Motion Detected” alerts on my phone. It was game on. I immediately checked the videos and saw the proof that I had been dreading.
A squirrel! Perched on the Crow Plate Pole’s pole plate polishing off the peanuts!
I rushed to the window that overlooks the Crow Plate Pole, threw open the blinds, and I saw the crime with my own eyes, happening in real time. The squirrel was still there, eating. I pounded on the window at the squirrel. I don’t know if I wanted to scare him or just let him know that I now knew. But he didn’t care. Didn’t even look up at me. Despicable disrespect.
I raced outside and over to the side of the house where the pole plate was positioned and where it was presently being plundered. I was going to face my tormentor head on!
He was no longer on the plate though, presumably pleased that the carnage was complete.
And then I saw him again. He was just sitting there on the arm of the Adirondack chair with a shell in his shifty little paws, his mouth full of peanut, chewing. And this time he was looking at me. The bastard was looking right in my eyes.
Many years ago my wife taught at a school for toddlers. A toddler school, I guess you’d call it? One of the toddlers was very headstrong with no respect for authority. On one occasion my wife had to make multiple requests to get him to pick up his toys, or some other toddler-type task, her voice growing more and more stern as he stubbornly ignored her. Finally, he paused, said not a word, but he looked her straight in the eyes, and he farted.
Ultimate power move. Ultimate sign of disrespect.
That’s how I felt as the squirrel and I stared each other down. This son of a bitch was showing the same disdain for me as that crass little farting boy.
I had to admit that the squirrel had won this round, and it wasn’t even close.
But understand one thing: I have a secret weapon.
You see, I was put on this earth with two very specific skills. One, I have the power to obsess about stupid shit for ridiculously long times. And two, I have the ability to perform the same task over and over and over ad nauseum without tiring, without growing bored, without ever thinking of stopping. I am a machine skilled at executing very unimportant tasks, repeatedly, for ages. This game will go on as long as necessary, and then some. I will NOT be p0wned by a disobedient squirrel. And I don’t even know what that means.
I will continue to drop off the crow peanuts on the Crow Plate Pole’s plate for the crows every morning at 7am in my crow hat despite this setback, until this squirrel is dead from old age or flattened in the street by a wayward Waymo. I do not care how long it takes. In fact, I want it to take long. I want it to take forever. I want this squirrel to understand that it should have never messed with the Repeater. Let’s do this, you piece of shit. Let’s see who cries uncle first.
Mark my words, I will be a crow bro, bro.
Next steps:
Install a “squirrel baffle” onto the Crow Plate Pole under the plate atop the pole. It’s basically a cone that prevents squirrels from accessing the Crow Plate Pole’s plate from the Crow Plate Pole’s pole. I should have done this in the first place. I knew better, but like I said, I was once naive. I am no longer naive.
Research options for a “Scare Squirrel”. Basically a Scare Crow for squirrels. If that exists.
Research options for an anti-Scare Crow. Basically something to attract the crows. If that exists. I need to accelerate this process of getting them here as quickly as possible. I’m going to need their help.
Stay tuned. More updates to follow. Warn your squirrel friends.
Crow Plate Pole w/ plundered peanuts
“In the fell clutch of circumstance, I have not winced nor cried aloud: Under the bludgeoning of chance my head is bloody, but unbowed.”
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