The Crowpocalypse

So this last week was the end of my training. The entire week I got to work with the Hawaiian crows, learning about their special husbandry concerns and basically getting to know the fifty some birds we have living at the facility.

And believe me, they each have a very unique personality. Lanakila, for instance, is one odd bird - he's more imprinted on humans than most of the other birds, which means that he associates with humans as well crows (which presents some unique issues for his use in captive breeding). He's simultaneously very shy and very curious (as they all seem to be) and to cope with these conflicting feelings, he follows you around the aviary while holding his head upside down. Of course this makes him more conspicuous, rather than less, but I doubt that he knows this. He's also very interested in water, particularly when it is being sprayed out of a hose. From what I've heard, if you don't lock him out of his hack-box (a smaller room within the larger aviary that is used in catching the birds for medical procedures, etc.) while filling up his water dish, he will run around the bowl getting sprayed with water until he slips and falls. Of course this is embarrassing and makes him angry, so he will then try to attack the hose. It's easier on everyone if you just avoid that whole situation.

Of course most of the birds are much healthier emotionally. They receive a well balanced diet and daily enrichment. Inevitably, some of the enrichment days are more exciting than others (tennis ball day was a good one; the crows went crazy when I put the balls into the aviary. Nalu, one of the breeding males, managed to grab the ball with both feet, roll onto his back, and proceeded to peck at it furiously...it was very endearing). So for the most part, the birds are happy and healthy.

And very, very smart.

Which is terrifying.

Now I've seen "The Birds" before, and never really gave it much credence. The seabirds I've known aren't particularly bright, certainly not enough to worry me. But stepping into an aviary with five fully-grown but fearless crow chicks is an intimidating prospect. They come screaming towards you and perch just a few feet away from your face. You can practically see them contemplating how much meat you've got on you (thankfully not enough to warrant any further action).

This behavior alone shouldn't be enough to worry me...I spent every day of the last four months working with one of the world's largest owls (one whose only goal seemed to be my utter destruction) and that turned out fine. Hell we even had something resembling a functional relationship by the end of that time. But the day I walked into a crow aviary and saw one using tools I knew humanity was in trouble. This particular bird was just using a stick to remove some melon from her water dish, but the number of potentially nefarious applications for this technology keep me awake well past my bed time (8:00 pm...it's tough to stay up past then when you have to wake up at 5:30). I've managed to avoid any crow-themed nightmares, but just like the monkeys I'm sure that it's just a matter of time. I mean these birds have figured out how to see through the one-way mirrored glass that we have in their aviaries. There are humans who can't figure that out. That might just be the most terrifying part of this...these birds are smarter than a lot of the people I've met (dated) in my life. They've got their shit together.

So what's the solution to all this? Well I can't speak for the rest of you, but I'm going to prepare for the inevitable crowpocalypse. For know that means vocal training, learning to mimic the sounds they make. I've got a few of them down so far, but there's a lot of work to be done. Thankfully, I think I'm up to it. The tenacity that helped me win a thirty minute long laughing contest with a rock hyrax at the Minnesota Zoo (not a joke. it happened. I came out the victorious champion)

Loser (above); Winner (below

In all honesty, these are some of the coolest birds I've had the privilege to work with. I'm sure I'll have plenty of stories over the next few months.

I'll maybe update you on something serious next week. I just don't have it in me today.

The Lonesome Tale of Red-5

Things at KBCC continue to go well, I'm now 2/3 done with my training. This next week I will be focusing on the 'Alala and then I'll be set loose for the last 9-ish weeks that I'm out here. But I'm sure that my exploits in the world of wax-worm maintenance and avian socialization are not particularly interesting to any of you. Or at least not yet. So today I have a little story for you - the epic of Red-5.

So epic may be a bit of an exaggeration (and by "a bit" I mean "a significant"...) but it's all I've got, so you all will just have to deal with it.

As I think I mentioned in the last post (but am too lazy to check) the Hawaiian Bird Conservation Project/San Diego Zoo maintains two facilities in the islands which are dedicated to the captive breeding of endemic birds - one here on the big island and one on Maui. The Maui facility is still actively breeding the only Hawaiian bird most of you have heard of, the nene (or Hawaiian goose) but efforts towards that goal have long since ended here at Keauhou. Despite this, we still have one grumpy old codger of a goose living here with us. He goes by the very descriptive name "Red-5." Now as some of you might know I am particularly fond of names which include both words and numbers, but this one doesn't have some great story behind it. The bird has one red band on his right leg and I believe that the number 5 is his record in the nene studbook (when I die, I would like someone to come up with a biographical photo-album of me also called the "Stud Book"). Nevertheless, he is a funny old bird. One would expect a flocking bird like the nene to want company, but on the (frequent) occasions that wild birds (mostly introduced game species like pheasants, chukkars, etc.) pay him a visit, he gets very stressed out. So we get to chase them out of his pen at least once a day. Once in a while, some wild nene will come hang out in his pen (read - eat his food and poop on his shelter). The thrill of scaring the crap out of endangered geese almost makes up for the damage done to my lungs by vog as I catch my breath afterwards.

There's not much else that I think is newsworthy, I get to practice administering fluids to a cardinal today, I hear about graduate school at Edinburgh within the week (which means I will need to start thinking seriously about that). Apparently my ukulele gets shipped out here soon (thanks Sarah!) so I will be spending a lot of time drinking beer on the porch, writing songs to all the pretty Hawaiian girls I haven't met yet...or really seen. Sure there are a few exceptions (hey Dairy Queen) but it's not really that much different than being at Cornell (a lot of Asian girls of indeterminate age...not really my thing). Apparently another intern will be showing up here in a week or so. Not sure how much that will shake things up, but I imagine I should prepare to have my shower drain clogged again.

Here's the weather:

Alright, off to go do some laundry. I know this was pretty insubstantial; for that I apologize. When something exciting happens I'll let you know.

Next week I take a look at the world of Hawaiian grass...don't worry, it's really sweet grass.