Edgar the Crow,

There's something quite different to knowing a crow and knowing a galah.  The most obvious thing is the face which gazes back at you.  Parrots are granivores.  They don't prey on other creatures.  Rather they flee from those who would prey on them.  Their eyes are on either side of their head.  When Marvin, for instance, looks at me, he looks with one eye.  When he's checking out a possible predator overhead (and galahs have an uncanny ability to spot a hawk circling so far above that he is the merest speck to my weaker eye), he checks with one eye.  He might double check by switching and looking with the other eye.  I assume in flight galahs have a greater range of vision behind and above them rather like the placement of a horse's eye.

Edgar, on the other hand, has eyes more towards the front of his head.  When he looks at me he is looking with both very blue eyes.  He looks with both eyes down the long pointer of his black beak.  It is a gaze both direct and discretionary.  There's a keen intelligence in those blue eyes.  I've noticed Edgar does share the excitement factor with parrots of pinning his pupils.but whether they pin when excited or relaxed will take more observation.  Something happens, that's for sure.

Later:  Took him out twice today.  The first time under the poinciana tree where he has been more than a few times, starting when he was still confined to his babycontainer.  He's fairly relaxed there although the open mouth breathing does make an appearance sooner or later.  In the afternoon, he hopped on his stick and accompanied me to the horse yards.  I squatted down near the tank overflow.  The air pressure must have dropped since yesterday for the overflow was dripping much to the delight of mud dauber wasps who quequed up for a sip and a dab of mud.  Edgar took some time to have a look around before he felt bold enough to leap off the perch stick. 

He couldn't understand why he was getting lightly splashed with the water hitting the concrete overflow.  He watched the water flow off the concrete onto the mud but thankfully didn't try and catch the wasps.  He did bring me another leaf.   And another.  He's quite affectionate in his grumbling complaining way.

But crows must be genetically wired not to trust long thin sticks held by humans.  I was 20 feet away when I picked up the manure fork.  Edgar panicked.  Had to take it to the far side of the yard and scrap ineffectually at nothing before he was convinced it meant him no harm.  Even in his panic he could not fly. 

He never relaxed in the yards but it was his first visit.  I put him atop the wooden part of the fence which stands between the horse yard and the enclosed veggie garden.  He did relax enough to squat down like crows do when resting while I finished the yards.  That was enough of an ask for him.  Tomorrow is another day.