I know a currawong like that...
Well, perhaps not so utterly shameless.
This one had the good grace to look sorry when it nipped my thumb, and I, light heartedly said, in my normal speaking voice, "Ow".
It was so funny, it took a step backwards, and genuinely looked remorseful, then took a little coaxing to come back and take the bread I was offering.
Most of the food's on the table, but I've overlooked the macaroni, and it's getting to "That" time of the evening when peak pasta demand happens.
I went back for the macaroni and a magpie started shrieking the clouds and the stars down.
I thought it was little girl magpie throwing a fit because her mother had looked at her the wrong way, again.
Back into the garden I went, expecting to have to use my gentle but stern voice - "I expect better from you two", with just a hint of a laugh at the end so they know I'm not really upset with them.
But it wasn't little girl magpie making the racket, it was her mum.
All I could see was half a dozen black birds, scattered around, in the fading light, and I was about to say "Come on, they're currawongs, they're okay...", when somebody, on the table, said "Cup", then jumped up onto the fence, clutching a large piece of bread.
There's the culprit, ha ha.
The crow was taking advantage of what food was already there.
With him out of the way, mother magpie came down from the bridge, still looking ruffled, but I expect that was more for effect, and as a means of gaining sympathy than anything else (Oh, that terrible crow, it upsets me so...), and proceeded to walk twice around the food before she was satisfied that it was up to her exacting standards.
She ate, she grabbed a beakful, and off she went into the night.
She's a character.
🙂
Exorcist owl
I can see him saying What the ??"
