Cardinals, for instance, seem to be aloof and proud birds; when they notice me watching, their look is often stern and belligerent. (picture)

Red-bellied Woodpeckers remind me of boxers that have been hit in the head too many times, ducking blows that aren't there as if they were still battling a tree trunk. They know I’m looking, but their look is indifferent. (picture  and  picture)

Chickadees and Titmice are, to me, the clowns of the Midwestern bird feeder world, with Titmice usually winning that contest when they turn back to look at me from their perch before leaping into the air, a sunflower seed in their beak, with a look that is comical and joyous, much like that of a friend who has just put a frog in your soup which you haven’t noticed yet. . . . (picture)

Titmice remind me of Dolphins. (picture and picture)

One day I was sitting in the hot tub and a Titmouse flew over and sat on the edge and looked at me for half a minute or so before flying away… as this is not usual Titmouse behavior I figured it meant the bird feeder was empty, which it was.

Hummingbirds, after being gone all winter, come back in the spring and look in my windows trying to attract my attention to put up the feeder; one even sat on the walk outside the sliding glass door to the living room waiting for me to notice...  (picture)

I was sitting on the porch with my camera taking pictures of Hummingbirds and a Hummingbird was chasing another round and round, just not letting up; the one being chased finally flew over to me and hovered 6 inches from my face; I felt the wind from its wings on my cheek as it turned to look at me, then turned back to look at the other Hummingbird that kept its distance; it was so similar to the behavior of human children it changed the way I saw Hummingbirds. “Nyah Nyah, can’t get me over here, Feather Brains.” It is amazing how much intelligence and awareness can be communicated in such a small moment-- it is also odd how such small, sweet birds can be so territorial and hostile that they are forever pestering each other.

...But Hummingbirds aren’t the only creatures that pester each other; a single Dragonfly may claim a fourth of my pond as its territory, quietly sitting on its tiny branch, wings spread, waiting for a tasty bug to pass by, or the expected invasion of it’s territory by another Dragonfly, which creates a scene of aerial combat the Red Baron would envy. They seldom let me get closer than six feet--that seems to be their circle of comfort for humans. Many have ragged wings, perhaps from fighting. Unlike a Preying Mantis who will calmly turn its head to see what I’m up to, apparently certain that I am not a threat, or the many spiders that, despite their small size, will turn to face me, forelegs raised in the air, daring me to fight, I can’t tell when Dragonflies are watching me, but I know they are. (picture)

White-tailed Deer are supreme athletes, ever watchful but easily swayed; they are usually successful at avoiding most natural predators, though have no chance against a rifle, and apparently lack the intelligence to figure out that jumping in front of the Big Fast Things is a bad idea.

Not that I’m putting down the intelligence of Deer, but cars kill an awful lot of Deer and Possum, but not so many Raccoons, and hardly any Crows, Vultures, Magpies, or Ravens, all of whom hang out on the highways eating road kill, putting themselves in constant danger; apparently they can eat and watch for the Big Fast Things and still get out of the way in time. Perhaps the Crows take turns watching to warn the others, and had to shorten the name of the Big Fast Things to something much faster to say, as those that stayed long enough to say “Big Fast Thing Coming” usually were booted off the evolutionary ladder. Animal behaviorists believe they have traced this evolution to the east coast of the United States, specifically in the Boston Crow, where the use of “Big Fast Thing” was replaced by “CAH”… This exact call may be specific to the Boston Crow, since inland from the east coast it is often pronounced as if it has a “w,” as in “CAW,” but humans adopted a slight variation of the word and no longer use the word "automobile" very much, perhaps for the same reason. 

Deer, on the other hand, look around and say “EEEK, a Big Fast Thing is coming; I’d better leap across this big trail fast before it gets here…..” Though this has repeatedly been shown to be the wrong choice, evolution hasn’t yet managed to filter out this trait, and it may be a measure of Deer Intelligence that it is taking them so long to adapt to the presence of human technology.

…But evaluating intelligence is a complicated matter of perception and environment. Dumb as Deer seem to be about Big Fast Things, they look pretty smart next to the many humans in movies, who, confronted by a hostile Big Fast Thing, often run right down the middle of the trail directly in front it, without ever thinking to themselves, “Maybe I should get off this big trail and run through those trees where the Big Fast Thing can’t go.” Apparently evolution needs more time to select against this trait in humans also.

Vultures… disdained by many despite their mastery of the air, are always on their wings, watching for opportunities; they look down at me to see if I’m still moving, but if I am they’re a “glass is half full” type of bird and aren’t disappointed, they just circle off in another direction… but one thing is certain…they’ll be back… (picture)

Horses can be graceful, elegant, caring, intelligent, stubborn, firm, and sometimes ruthless; wild horses have many scars, but they are also loving and protective parents. Humans, on the other hand, turn wild horses into dog food. (picture and picture)