One afternoon I was in the living room, which was on the 2nd floor of our upside-down house. We had a huge sliding door onto a balcony deck, and also a fireplace with a big mirror above. There were several windows adorned with white shades left up for sunlight.
The sliding door was partially opened to let in the pleasant afternoon air. I was poking around with a dust rag in my hand when, all of a sudden, a blue jay swooped into the room. Very disoriented by finding itself indoors, it bumped into a wall, then a mirror, and then it fluttered into the large mirror above the fireplace. At last, it landed on the mantle, it's little chest going up and down with its fast heart beat.
With no practice or preparation for such an event, I followed my instincts and began to move slowly about the room, closing curtains and speaking gently to the bird, quietly telling him to calm down and hold still - that I would see him safely out. He sat there, staring at me with his black bead eyes, his little heart still beating so fast it was visible. But he stayed still.
After I pulled each curtain (there were four), I stretched the slider curtain over the solid glass pane, leaving only the door itself uncovered. Then I hauled the slider open to its full width, and gestured to the little fellow. He immediately flew outside via the opening provided, and so to freedom.
After this event, the blue jay returned to the porch, and sat on the balcony railing several times, as if visiting, so I bought some peanuts for him. He watched when I brought the bag of peanuts upstairs and when I set a few out, he immediately dropped down onto the railing and ate some. He was so cheeky and confident that I put some peanuts in my hand, and he came right over and took them from my outstretched palm.
From that day forward, we were close friends and I continued to feed and interact with him several times a day for two years. If he was hungry, he would come to the porch and look in the windows until I came out. He did seem to disappear for a few months each year, late in the season - maybe December-January. I'm not sure what months. For some reason, I began to call him Billy, and he answered to the name. I could call him to me by saying "Billy Billy Billy" in a singsong voice. He was usually nearby (apparently we were part of his territory) and would fly up very fast, looking for peanuts.
The following spring after the original rescue, Billy had a mate. She would sit on the phone wire but I only once saw her come down and grab a peanut. When Spring began, Billy, looking fat and sassy, very bright blue, worked hard to feed his family. As weeks passed, his feathers began to look disarrayed and he lost weight. I knew it was all part of his hard work as a family man. He was not ill and he continued to visit.
At the end of that nesting season, Billy did the most amazing thing. One day I was out on the balcony with the peanut bag and Billy showed up with two juvenile blue jays. The mother jay still would have nothing to do with me, but the juveniles, following their papa's lead, began to come for food as well. By the end of summer, Billy chased his boys away, but they continued to hang around and grab peanuts when they could. Eventually, only one son remained (they seemed like males) - and Billy, who was obviously the bigger boss bird, also remained as king of the territory.
The following year, the same thing happened exactly the same way. Although I am not sure if the fledglings from the second nesting stayed in the area or not because all Billy's children began to look the same to me. Only Billy was completely tame, and very cheeky; he was also much bigger than the younger birds.
The next year, the third year, Billy no longer came. I imagine he had lived out his blue jay years but I missed him. However, his son did come and I have video of that. I still called "Billy Billy Billy" to get the blue jays to come; you can hear that on the video.
The jay on film is one of Billy's first group of sons which he introduced to me; thus, it is a pretty tame bird. Interestingly, the next (4th) year, a new group of fledglings was born from Billy's tame son, but these birds, although they stayed in the territory, showed no tameness whatsoever and did not come for food, although they did hang around the house - probably because they were born to the territory and stayed in it. I was fine with the change from tame back to wild, as it isn't wise to make unfettered wildlife dependent. However, Billy the first, the impudent, intelligent, beautiful little fellow, chose to be my friend; and as a result of his actions, two of his sons were also tame with me. These events were gifts from the gods - all I did was help Billy escape the terrors of an upstairs living room on one long ago, sunny afternoon.
(The video (on YouTube) is a 1-2 sequence showing the tame 2nd generation blue jay).
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