Every neighborhood has its bad boys. The ones who crank up their music until the wee hours or toss trash on your lawn as they cruise by.
And then there's the really wild stuff.
I saw my neighbor standing in the street staring at his roof the other day. This is a guy who only leaves his computer/house when there's a good reason -- like going to work or buying groceries. Something must be wrong.
"What's up?" I asked him.
"Take a look," he said, pointing to his green, asphalt-tiled roof. "Over there by the chimney, and over there. A bunch of tiles are missing."
"That's odd," I said. "It hasn't even been windy lately."
The first time he and his wife noticed a bare patch they couldn't figure it out. And then more appeared. How annoying.
"You'll never guess who did it," he said. "We caught them one morning."
The culprits? Crows. A gang of big, bored, noisy young crows are cruising our neighborhood looking for action. And prying tiles off the occasional roof for kicks.
My neighbor, who is now getting estimates to have the roof fixed, is not amused.
"They're like juvenile delinquents," he complained.
Yup. Move over raccoons. Knocking over garbage cans in the alley at night is kid stuff. A new gang is in the hood.
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