I knew it, I knew it, I KNEW IT!!!
The countless years I've had to put up with people looking at me with a condescending smile on their faces, as I tried to explain my fear/hatred of all things feathered. It's their nasty little beaks, beady eyes and sharpened claws that send a shiver down my spine and a wave of nausea into my throat.
I'm talking about the birds, not the condescending people, though come to think of it.......
But now I have been proven right by this article
When crows feel they are being threaten they "scold", which is really a call-to-arms for all nearby relatives and friends. They then gather in a gang of 2 to 15, swoop and nose-dive
or should that be beak-dive
This is the reason for my totally rational fear of them. I was about eight at the time and my dog Patch caught a crow in the potato garden. He was surrounded by them and I can still hear the blood-curdling caws and screeches. Patch, the eejit, wouldn't let the damn crow go. I took off across the potato drills to rescue him. I was certain that they were going to attack me and peck my eyes out, but I had to rescue my dog. Patch obviously got a fright when he saw me coming screaming towards him, and let the crow go. They all dispersed. But from that day onwards my fear grew and spread to all members of the bird family.
In fact they don't even have to be alive. My mum used to have to take the ornamental robins off the Christmas wreaths as I couldn't stay in the same room as one.
Cheralyn got more than she bargained for in Abu Dhabi. We had been out in Trader Vics, where they served cocktails in buckets, decorated with similar exotic inanimate birds. She didn't realise how serious I was about my fear of them. She collected up a few and left them outside my apartment door.
These things seems really funny when you're drunk!
When I opened the door in the morning and saw them I immediately had to turn around, rush to the bathroom and throw up. Cheralyn felt so bad about it that I've lived off the following guilt trip for years!
I have actually watched Hitchcock's "The Birds" out of a perverse sense of terror
but through my fingers!
I was never a great fan of Mr. Crow in Wanderly Wagon either! He just kept popping out of that cuckoo clock and caw caw cawed away. All I wanted to do was wring his stupid neck.
I realise that I have anger management issues stemming from my childhood that have never been resolved!
So I HATE all things ornithological and would never voluntarily go within a hen's race of a crow.
Oh wait, there is one exception......Russell Crowe circa Gladiator era.