Dear Joan: I think it’s called a murder of crows, but maybe I just want to murder the crows.
Every year we get 40 or 50 crows eating breakfast on our roof and it drives Chrissie, our normally non-vocal Bichon Frise, crazy. The crows bring large, nut type husks the size of walnuts and use our roof as an anvil to break them open.
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