I had a baby crow when I was 17/18. I only had him for about a week before he died. He had the most beautiful blue eyes. I came home from work and my Aunt and Uncle were sitting in the living room with my Mom, grinning. They told me they had something for me and pointed to a box. I opened it and this little baby looked up at me. I picked him up, my heart filled with love already. He cocked his head and looked at me and then hopped onto my shoulder and buried himself in my hair. I named him Talu, possibly spelt Tallu. That was the name that came to mind. It might not even be spelt like that, that’s how it sounds. I was heart broken when he died. He had fallen out of a tree so I’m sure he was wounded internally. I still wonder sometimes if he starved to death. I was still in high school and working full time. My Aunt and Uncle (who raised birds for sale) said they would care for him. What made his death even worse was that they just dumped him into the garbage can. I retrieved him and gave him a proper burial. I still have some of his feathers. I almost forgot his name today as he came to mind. I was looking through artwork of An Morrigan. I wanted to write a post about the little one so I don’t ever forget. Much love to my little soldier. The picture below isn’t actually of him. But it’s pretty close.

baby-crow

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