Russell’s Story


I was enjoying one of the easiest meals I’d had in a long while. No need to chase the mice down and snap open their throats with my razor beak, though that’s always good fun. The corn was just lying there in a little pile for me.

Well, lying in a little pile for a sparrow. I always wondered why humans left out food for sparrows, ducks and geese, but never us. A crow has to eat too. Anyway, it doesn’t really matter. I showed the little preening bird the sharp end of my claws. You should’ve heard it squawk and flutter away, little feathers everywhere.

I was happily eating my meal when you came along, your heavy feet shaking the earth. I’d have pecked out your eyes and eaten them whole, eyes make a plump and juicy meal, but you swatted at me with your oversized paw.

Humans are useless, that’s what I think. You’ll even save a fledgling magpie if you find it fallen from its nest. I don’t see the point. A baby bird makes a hearty meal, tender sinew and hot blood to warm my belly. Next time you scoop one up in your clumsy paws, throw it up to your old friend Russell the crow.

I’ll have your eyes for my lunch if you don’t.


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