When my Dad recently started telling me the story of his childhood friend who had a pet black crow, I knew it would be something extraordinary. When my Dad spins his tales, one can’t quite tell what part of the story is real, and what part is re-imagined from a childhood that took place more than 80 years ago.
This is how the story goes: My Dad’s childhood acquaintance, Marvin, had a pet crow named Charlie. Charlie the Crow sat on Marvin’s shoulder and accompanied him everywhere he went. Charlie could talk, and had a rather large vocabulary. Apparently, he could communicate with the children, and would reply when Marvin asked him questions. Charlie was tame enough to be petted. Just when I thought the story was much too far-fetched, enchanting and curious to be true, my Dad threw in to the story the name of Marvin’s sister, whose children attended grade school with me. This cast off any doubt of suspicion as to the legitimacy of the story – Marvin was a real boy!