My mother raised a pet crow named Pockets. He was brilliant but irritable if he didn’t get his egg sandwich every morning for breakfast. He and his fellow corvidaes can count, solve puzzles, use tools, learn symbols, mourn their dead, and retain information. They flock in abundant assemblies, roosting, feeding, and traveling together. Mom taught Pockets to talk, which he did at every opportunity, especially while he was showing his affection by smartly hammering me on the head.