But made me a bit sad as it reminded me that when I was young I had Magpies who would come to me and bring me shiny gifts. I reared a Magpie chick (his nest had been robbed - he was on the ground, barely alive and with no feathers yet) I fed him mashed stuff and, when he fledged I taught him to fly - and he then went off and came back with more magpie friends (wild ones) and got me to feed them. I loved him, and he would ride on my wrist like a hawk ( by his own choice - no jesses) when I rode my pony on the Common.
He used to bring me gifts of mainly shiny stuff - milk bottle rops, ring pulls from cans, bits of metal and washers, stuff like that. No gold or silver unfortunately!
Then the neighbouring farmer's teenaged son, knowing full well who he was, shot Magnus dead and nailed his body to our gate post. The total bastard. I was 9 at the time.
The memory of this made me sad at how Magnus had died, but also happy to recollect an event which was so special in my life. I felt so blessed to have been a part of a wild bird's life in that manner.
So I went and dug out the only two photos I have of Magnus Magenpie
This first one is of him just fledged and you can see the sheath still on his primaries We have just had a flying lesson in that photo.
That's me in the picture, with him on my arm, standing on Kempsey Common just next to our house.
Magnus learnt to talk and could say quite a few things - his favourite saying was "magnus magenpie, pretty boy " and " come on, hurry up and feed me" and he would tap in the window to wake me up so he could get me to open the window. He would then fly into my bedroom and tug on my hair until I got up and fed him. He frequently brought a number of "wilder" magpie friends with him - and obviously had communicated that I was "ok" as they, too, would come in and wait for food. This was 44 years ago. I still think of him :)
