Over the last few weeks, thousands of people have had their imagination captured by the remarkable story of Canuck, a quirky little crow from East Vancouver. And the bird’s audience isn’t just Vancouverites: He has an astounding worldwide audience of 47,000-plus followers on the “Canuck and I” Facebook page, run by his best (human) buddy, Shawn Bergman.
This is the crow who was found – supposedly after being abandoned as a baby – in a Vancouver park by Bergman’s landlord, who nursed and took care of him. When Canuck was old enough, he was released. But he didn’t leave. Why would he? He was getting fed. Bergman and Canuck became close, and as Canuck grew older, his antics became the stuff of legend.
This is a crow who rode the Skytrain, ate inside the McDonald’s at Hastings and Cassiar, and, most famously, stole a knife from a crime scene of the same restaurant’s parking lot. Speaking of stealing, Canuck supposedly once scooped a set of keys from Hastings Racecourse. Months later, he brought the keys back, dropping them on a trainer’s head. Canuck’s fans love his every move. Clearly, this is one special bird.
That’s why there was genuine outrage and emotion when, on March 25, some asshole at an East Van soccer game allegedly cracked an unsuspecting Canuck over the head with a linesman’s pole. Canuck subsequently spent 10 days at the Night Owl Bird Hospital. Even the interview with the veterinarian went viral. If you’ve been following the story, you’ll know that Canuck is back in the arm’s-length care of Bergman in East Vancouver. His Facebook fans are overjoyed. Canuck is flying wild again and seems to be doing pretty well. But for how long?
Not to ruffle the feathers of Canuck’s fervent flock, but allow me to suggest that he might never have been smacked on the head if he wasn’t so unnaturally trusting of humans in the first place.
And therein lies our problem: We humans love to nurture. We want to save, nurse, parent and befriend. We don’t want to let nature take its course. We want to tame, pet, cage and tether, usually with the best of intentions. (It should be noted that Canuck is free to roam wherever he wants and he sleeps in a rookery.) Whether it be Tarzan and his chimpanzee pal Cheetah, Grizzly Adams and his bear cub Ben, or Sandy and his dolphin buddy Flipper, humans have always been fascinated by stories of taming the wild. The problem is, those stories are fictional.
In the real world, a human caring for a wild creature rarely works out. Let us not forget Luna, the beautiful baby orca who became orphaned in Nootka Sound, off the west coast of Vancouver Island. The whale became an international sensation when it showed extreme friendliness toward humans. While authorities argued endlessly on what to do with Luna, the young orca met his gruesome end in the churning blades of a tugboat’s propeller.
Sometimes the animal isn’t the casualty. Who can forget the tragic tale of Timothy Treadwell? His totally misguided relationship with Alaskan grizzly bears was told in Werner Herzog’s shocking documentary film, Grizzly Man.
Occasionally, wild-animal domesticity does appear to somehow run successfully against the laws of nature. Remember Ruth Schwartz and Bimbo, her cigarette-eating pet deer in Ucluelet? Ruth raised Bimbo from a fawn, and for well over a decade the deer kissed her goodnight and slept beside her bed. When conservation officers threatened to remove Bimbo, public outcry was so great that the lonely old mountain woman was allowed to keep her dearly beloved deer.
Ultimately, we should be letting nature take its course, but too often we humans just can’t help ourselves. Here’s hoping the rest of Canuck the Crow’s story will be a lot more Bimbo than Luna, and that East Van’s smartest little bird learns from the soccer field smackdown to keep his distance, and live a long and happy life.
