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I used to have a colony of rooks that were my bros. I was rehabbing my knee after a bike accident so the only /out/ stuff I could do involved sitting around in the back garden. My grandma had taught me how to get wild birds used to me because she used to like teaching robins to eat from her hand.
The first generation soon saw me as a non threatening source of meat scraps and the second generation just saw me as part of the scenery. It was pretty awesome having a flock of nine or ten big black birds come flapping over whenever I clicked my tongue. The younger ones would hop up on my legs and eat stuff off my knees or out of my hands. The older ones would march around a few feet in front of me. There were four or five who wouldn't come near me no matter what but they'd come and eat stuff if I wasn't out there. I was starting to get one youngster to perch on my arm and take food from between my knuckles. Next step would have been trying to get them to perch on my shoulders but I had to go back to work and couldn't put the time in anymore. I miss those guys.
Talking to them is bullshit though. I'd just taught them to associate my clicking noises with free food.
