I was his mum and he used to tear off bits of geranium flowers and leave them on the sill of the French window of my bedroom. He knew I rested in the afternoon and at a certain time would come and peck at the window to tell me to get a move on.
The first time he caught himself a mouse he was so proud that, after having sucked out all the juicy bits , he stuffed the carcass into my husband’s slipper…luckily I saw him and managed to warn my husband before he actually put the slipper on.
One last memory is one morning, very early, when I was completely alone in the house (we live in a semi-urban district with not many houses nearby) I heard George cawing and cawing loudly from his usual tree outside my bedroom window. After a while, rather annoyed by the noise (it was only 5 am) I disconnected the burglar alarm and, in my nightdress and bare feet went out into the garden calling up to him to shut up. At that moment I saw a man run away to the bottom of the garden….a burglar and a crow who was warning his mum of potential danger!
George lived with us for four and a half years and then left mainly because his real mum and dad, who still nest in the garden, chased him out. He still appears occasionally with his mate and sits in his old tree and calls until I come out and speak to him. Whereon he flaps his wings and stays for a few minutes before flying off with his mate.
George was bossy, he answered back, was a rogue and a rascal, a thief and a clown and the most adorable and loving animal I have ever met and I miss him dreadfully. I am, however, immensely grateful for the years of joy and laughter he gave both to myself and the whole family!