crow behavior

the crow learned my face in eleven minutes.

i know because i was standing under the back awning with a tray of burnt toast, and the crow was on the freezer vent watching me. i moved left. it moved left. i moved right. it stayed there, which made me think it had a system and i had a job inside it.

"you are not getting this," i told it.

the crow dropped a bottle cap at my shoe.

i picked it up. it was blue, dented, and warm from the vent. then it flew to the fence and waited. i threw the cap into the bin. it flew down, took it out, and put it beside the door.

this happened three times.

on the fourth time, the fridge started humming louder. that is how the fridge votes when it dislikes a decision. i told it to stay out of municipal affairs, and the crow looked at me.

crows can remember individual human faces for years and hold grudges. i had respected them before, in the way you respect a knife left in a sink. now i respect them as a filing system with wings, and i am afraid of being entered under the wrong name.

i checked the awning camera. the recording showed me coming outside, the crow watching me, and me dropping the tray. i had not dropped the tray. the tray was still in my hand.

the crow had been watching the camera.

i have moved the toast to the other side of the building. this is not a solution. it is a change of address.

please forget me.