Adam's Animal Stories (weblog)

Years ago, one Hindu friend told me about a ritual for the recently departed.

The family will prepare large amounts of nicely prepared foods, placing all of this out for the crows on thalis (dishes/trays), somewhere near the departed. The crows, of course, immediately come down to the food. However, in some instances they may not directly begin to eat it, but rather they may simply walk around it, looking and smelling, but NOT eating!

The crow is believed by these Hindus to have the ability to "see spirits" and other phenomena usually outside of humans' reach.

When the crows refuse to eat the food in this way, this means that the spirit of the "departed" has not yet departed. More rituals are to be conducted and sacred verses recited for the spirit of the deceased to move on.

All in one moment, suddenly all of the crows will jump on the food and begin to eat, and when this happend, it signifies that the soul has indeed gone on to the higher.

Years after I had heard this story, I was sitting with my Hindi teacher in Mumbai and he saw something I had written in my workbook about the crows. When he asked what I had written, I explained to him the above. He immediately recognized this, adding that his own grandmother had just very recently died, and that this same ritual was performed for her with identical results regarding the crows and the food.

I have been told other credible accounts of crows gathering in groups and holding "court," whereby they decide the fate of one crow among their own number, either finally "agreeing" to continue to accept him or her, or to cast him/her out of the group.

Of course, many have seen the documentaries showing the crows' cleverness in solving problems, such as how to get food from remote and tricky locations.

Indeed, I am confident that crows have abilities we do not, and also that they share with us many similar abilities in terms of very keen intelligence and social sensibilities among their kind.

I do not eat any meat whatsoever, I have not done so in nearly 15 years. The more I learn about the meat industry, the happier I am about that.

Here are some questions:

I understand that cloned animals may not live similarly healthy and long lives as do real animals. What then gives us confidence the meat will be good? The animal is the meat.

And, is there really a need for this, and is it less expensive than traditional animal production? Hard to imagine either.

The consumer loses.

My dear female tortoise has once again come to me with an urgent message.

You may have read my story about the time she came into the house and to the side of my morning bed to let me know that her mate was outside, over-turned on his back. She did the same some weeks later.

Otherwise, she practically never tries to come into the house.

Moments ago, my wife called to me from the living room: "The tortoise is scraping with her toe-nails against the door, trying to come in!"

Recognizing this as unusual, I sprang to attention.

We slid open the glass Arcadia door, whereupon our tortoise immediately crossed the few inches to my foot, and then she put her head to the ground, scraping my big toe with her cheek as she did.

I knew immediately what she was saying to me. She puts her head down to the ground in this way to drink. I have seen her do it when the ground is dry, and if I give her water at that moment she will drink her fill. Otherwise, she doesn't do this. For her to come straight to my foot and brush my toe with this head-gesture was unambiguously her way of directly asking me to give her water.

It is mid-summer here in this arid desert. Tortoises can go for a while without drinking, taking moisture only from the greens they eat. But even the grass is drier than usual in these drought conditions this summer.

I quickly dispatched her to the patio and turned on the hose, placing it near her once the water had cooled. She put her head down, just as she had alongside my toe, and she drank and drank and drank.

The mistake had been mine. I typically offer water to her when I see her on the patio. It had been a bit too long since I had seen her about, I am sorry to admit.

In her way, she not only succeeded in getting her needed drink; she also reminded me, even if unintentionally, that I had been remiss. That is the part I take away as my lesson.

One day, Panchi, the Whitewing dove, flew out the door - trying to land on our heads as we came in - but the call of the Wild was strong apparently, as she soon darted off into the wild outdoors.

We spent the afternoon looking for her and calling out for her, but she was not to be found. I set her cage up high on the roof and set a recording of a lone Whitewing to repeat aa a "loop" from a boombox beside it. As the others have her kind had recently flown South for the winter, this would be the only Whitewing call in the area over the ensuing week.

Eventually, I brought the CD player back inside.

I hope to see her in the Spring when the Whitewings return. I will know her by the yellow band I had placed on her left leg. In the meantime, I remember her sweetly, and hope that she fares well, and that she finds others of her feather.

Come Spring, I will keep a careful eye out for her.


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