“IS THAT YOU, FRED?”

One contributor fondly recalls the antics of a cheeky crow one long-ago summer

It was a hot day in June of 1968 when we got our first inkling that this summer was going to be different from previous ones. Grandpa was working up on the farmhouse roof, loudly complaining about some darned crow dropping frogs down the chimney. Grandma came outside to watch. “I wondered what was putting the woodstove out! That darned crow!”

The “darned crow” landed on the roof and introduced himself, “CAW! CAW! CAW!” This was the start of our family’s love-hate relationship with a mischievous crow we called Fred.

We kids would be playing in the yard and Fred would be playing, too. He’d jump up and swing from the laundry Grandma had hung on the clothesline. He seemed very happy to grab onto a towel with his beak and swing back and forth. Grandma would shoo him away, but he’d soon be back, stealing clothespins off the line or swinging again. There would be laundry all over the lawn. We kids thought it was hilarious—grandma, not so much.

Sometimes things weren’t so funny, though. We’d hear one of the girls screaming and immediately know it was because of Fred. The girl would be seen running down the path with Fred dive-bombing her. The grownups assured us that Fred only wanted our hat or hair clips, but it was scary imagining how he might one day land on someone’s head. We kids learned to keep an eye out for him.

Hair clips weren’t the only thing Fred wanted, however, he loved pop-bottle caps, jewelry and anything shiny. Everyone learned to never leave anything we valued on the picnic table. We kids blamed the crow for everything that summer.

“I don’t know, Fred must have taken it,” was a familiar response. But I just know there’s a tree back in the woods crammed full of Fred’s treasures. My uncle treated Fred like one of our pets. He’d put the bird on his shoulder and walk into the house. Fred would look around at everyone with his beady black eyes and with a “CAW! CAW! CAW!” startle us all! Then someone brought the dog, the cat and even the pony into the house, too. We kids were so excited to have all these animals in the big frontroom. The fun was over though when Fred got too excited and left a surprise on the arm of my uncle’s shirt! “Everybody out!”

Fred flew away sometime that summer and never came back.

The grownups said he most likely went off to start a family. Things got really quiet after that. We still got excited at any crow flying around, but always knew it wasn’t Fred.

He would have swooped down for a visit and tried to steal something. That summer was more than 50 years ago, but

I still call out to any crow I see, “Fred, is that you, Fred?” ■