Young crows are vocal, shiny black balls. They follow their parents around while belching out a dry “caw” sound. When a parent gives it food (by cramming its beak down the young crow’s throat), the young crow gives off a call that sounds like what I imagine a dying cat would sound like.

I’ve had coworkers come to me alarmed by this call. I reassure them that the crow is fine, it’s just eating.

A family of crows is intent on feeding on top of the medical building that I can view from my apartment window. Every so often throughout the day, the dying call wails from the young crow as it’s being fed.

I finally carved out some time to watch the feeding in action. I can easily identify the one young crow by its constant calls to be fed, as well as the very red, fleshy mouth it displays while holding its beak open waiting for sustenance.

I watched as a parent unsuccessfully pecked at a very stale piece of bread. I imagined it gave up on the bread when it meandered over to dripping water coming from an air conditioning pipe. I chuckled as it used the meager drops to wet its feathers. But wait, it wasn’t only getting a bath – it put the stale bread into the little puddle that the droplets were forming! That didn’t seem to be working too well, so it shoved the bread into the pipe where the water was running. Success! Moistened bread for the win! Crows are truly geniuses.