“Maw, Maw,” Tom’s crow cawed. I sensed urgency in his complaint above the din of the portable radio tuned to Top Forty Hits. Every day my neighbor, Tom, selected the same AM radio station to share his favorites with our neighborhood. In pleasant weather, the crow joined the radio music on Tom’s deck. I wondered if the crow tried to elevate his voice above Fats Domino?
“Maw, Maw,” the crow continued.
“Enough!” Tom shouted. “Maw, Maw,” was the response.
Enough indeed, I thought as I strode through the gate to Tom’s back yard. Either the crow or the radio had to go. What shall I say to Tom? I wanted relatively peaceful afternoons in my back yard. And, I wished to keep good relations with my neighbor.
“I found my thrill on blueberry hill,” Fats crooned.
“Maw, Maw,” accompanied Fats.
“I know,” Tom said. “I’ve decided to take the crow for a ride to the country. He drives me crazy too. After the storm earlier this year, we rescued him as a baby crow. We thought raising him was the right thing to do. When Ellen fed him, his ‘caws’ in response, were cute.”
“Maw, Maw,” the crow responded at the mention of Ellen’s name.
“Yes, I know, Ma will be home soon,” Tom replied. “We never realized that the crow would continue his chatter as he grew older.”
“Maw, Maw,” greeted Ellen as she drove her car into the garage.
“Sunday I’ll drive the crow to Middleton,” Tom said. “There’s a woods next to an office building. I’ll release him in the parking lot.”
“That’s great, Tom.” I wished Tom would take Fats Domino along for the ride as well.
“Hi guys, how’s it going?” Ellen said as she bounded up the steps. The crow watched Ellen in silence.
For two weekends, I enjoyed the relative quiet of Tom’s AM radio sans the accompaniment of his crow. On the third weekend, however, I was greeted by, “Maw, Maw,” as I entered my backyard. “What’s going on?” I said to my neighbor as I leaned over the fence and gestured toward his crow.
“He showed up last night,” Tom shrugged as he looked at the crow. “My daughter’s car broke down so she borrowed Ellen’s to drive to her job. Linda works at the dentist’s office next to the woods where I released the crow. He flew above Ellen’s car all the way back here.”
“Maw, Maw,” the crow proclaimed while Danny and the Juniors sang, “At the hop,” on the radio.
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Richard Wilberg, MS, PLCC, ACC
Life Coach for Personal Fulfillment and Career Success
About the Author
Richard Wilberg writes fiction, creative non-fiction, self-help, and career counseling articles. He lives in Madison, Wisconsin.