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Did you ever have a pet,
The wild kind…like me?
Well, I had a pet crow,
But, he was as friendly as could be.

My Dad had climbed up,
To the top of a tall tree;
For he had seen a crow’s nest,
And, he was curious…as could be.

Well, the parents were not happy,
They swooped down and squawked at him;
But, my Dad wanted just one baby crow,
The chances of capturing one…was slim.

Dad scooped-up that baby crow,
Put it inside his shirt;
And, quick as could be…he did flee,
Dashing into his house…he was unhurt.

Yes, when Dad was making his escape,
Down the trunk of that tree;
That’s when he had decided,
The baby crow’s name would be Petey.

Now, how do you keep a baby crow quiet,
So your own parents wouldn’t know;
There’s just no way it could be done,
And, Petey loudly told him so!

My Grandparents weren’t happy,
When Petey…they did see;
“He belongs in the wild…you know,
He needs to be free.”

But, my Dad was most convincing,
Besides…he begged and he did plea;
“If I take very good care of Petey,
Could I keep him…Oh, please?”

“Well, he can stay here…now,
For his parents won’t take him back”;
My Gramma knew about nature,
Dad would have to care for Petey…and not be slack.

“You must feed him bread and water,
Clean his cage every day;
And, when he is older,
Out in the barn…he will have to stay.”

Oh, my Dad was so happy now,
He would teach that bird to talk;
He had heard it could be done,
Yes, he would teach Petey to talk.

Dad would rush home from school…every day,
And, dig up lots of worms;
Petey had a feast…always,
But, he never learned to talk…on that he stood firm!

Oh, the places they went together,
And, the things they used to do;
Would you believe Dad taught that bird to fly,
Yes, every word of this is true!

Gramma even watched and cared for Petey,
When my Dad went off to war;
A few bad habits…he soon learned,
He’d pull clothespins off the clotheslines…and away he would soar.

Oh, his little tricks weren’t just at home,
By now…he had become quite the flyer;
He’d disappear for hours…sometimes,
Out there…harassing all the neighbors.

Dad was home from the war…now,
And, very soon he married;
Before you know it…I came along,
Then, life at my Grandparents' house…became very harried.

After my bath time…each day,
Right outside I would go;
Fresh air…out there…in my carriage,
The best way for a baby to grow.

Was Petey going to leave me,
To be unprotected…it was absurd;
Petey would perch on my carriage,
Kept strangers away from me…just like any mother bird!

Yes, Petey was quite the pet,
Although…to talk…he never learned;
Still…in each one of our hearts,
A special place…he had earned.

When I was but a toddler,
Out in Gramma’s garden…we would sit;
Gramma…me and Petey,
And, he would perform for us…all of his best skits.

I think that Petey never knew,
That he was just a bird…a crow;
He was part of our family,
Everybody would tell you so.

But, alas…one day he didn’t come home,
From one of his solo flights;
We never knew what became of Petey,
Though we searched for him…day and night.

‘Tis said that some irate neighbor,
Tired of his pranks and did him in;
But, we’d like to remember Petey as he was,
And…all the joy that he did bring!


March 1, 2004

Aimee Love

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Gramma, me and "Petey" the crow!