The black harbingers of...something

Yesterday there was a racket of crows outside the house, which increasingly captivated Toby's attention. He yearned for the crows, becoming such a nuisance about it that I had to become quite stern with him. Harsh words were exchanged, the silent treatment was resorted to. But then I saw one of the audicious buggers sitting on the boxwood shrub right outside our living room window. Inches from the window, looking in. It crawled around a while, and eventually sat itself right on the fence.

Now, Toby's obsession with the crows was annoying, but by then I'd been listening to their harsh, repetitive cawing for four hours straight - what was their problem, anyway? - so I let him outside to scare them off. Much to my surprise he charged out, jumped up on the fence, and damn near snagged that crow right in his mouth. (Toby is not known for his predatory prowess, his only success to date being one hapless rat.)

The crow community reacted instantly and vigorously. From the trees above, the accusatory cawing became louder, more angry. Eventually I realized that the crow on the fence was an adolescent, fledged but not yet a confident flyer, hanging around low to the ground while its relatives watched carefully from overhead.

So now? Every time Toby goes outside, he is greeted by a raucous, vigorous crow protest. He is persona non grata in the crow world. This has understandably given him a complex - seriously, is there a sound more unpleasant in the natural world than an angry crow? - and so now he's obsessed with them. "Up" is not a direction that dogs normally pay much attention to, in my experience, but now he paces the yeard, searching the trees, and barking at any black birds he sees. The conflict is escalating out of control.

In other words - my 60-pound dog is being bullied by a pack of blackbirds. What is the world coming to?