Grackles, as gregarious as can be, are fascinating creatures of nature

Last week, The Advance printed a story about the almighty grackle and its history ties to the Rio Grande Valley. This week, a reader submitted their own vignette about the bird species.

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I enjoyed your column about grackles. Love 'em or hate 'em, they are some tough survivors — even outliving the legendary curmudgeon, Othal Brand.

I am firmly in the camp of grackle-lovers. During my husband's final illness, when he could barely move or speak, it was our habit to leave the less-than-uplifting setting inside the Texas State Veterans Home, and walk (I walked and pushed his wheelchair) all the way around the driveway that surrounded the grounds and building.

We usually stopped under the one tree — which we called The Grackle Tree — where the sidewalk ended and there was a place to park his wheelchair in the shade, with room for me to set up a folding chair and table, snacks and Diet Coke from my car nearby. We fairly wallowed in the luxury of not being totally available to an army of nurses, CNAs, maintenance and cleaning people, and even the very rare doctor who might pay a surprise visit, lasting no more than two minutes.

We were blissfully alone together, something you don't appreciate until you don't have it any more.

The Vets' Home has a lush, well-maintained lawn and lots of shrubbery and trees that provide a habitat for several species of birds, the most numerous and dominant of which is the Mexican Grackle. With not much else to look at besides the high blue sky hosting interesting cloud formations, green grass, a trio of wayward whistling ducks, and a few dozen sparrows, we became fans of the comical and very vocal Black and Purple Menace ... the grackle.

In spite of the Rio Grande Valley being world-renowned as a birding destination, my husband hadn't paid much attention to birds until ... there wasn't much of anything else he was able to do.

Similar to a dog, my husband had mastered 'sit' and 'stay,' his dire medical condition severely limiting his other options. Thanks to the antics of the always-busy grackles, my husband added 'smile' and 'laugh' back into his repertoire of 'tricks.' He had retained much of his ability to speak, but it was the return of joy in the face of severe disability with death waiting in the wings, that I celebrated the most.

The grackles were raven-like in their intelligence, with bright, beady gold eyes, always on the alert for that special edible prize that they would usually grab and carry off in their beaks, probably to deposit in the mouths of mini-grackles waiting in their nests. We learned that they loved the mini-crackers that came in plastic jars for 98 cents at H-E-B (now priced at $1.28). These were tasty tidbits, just right for big grackle beaks, a little larger than a quarter, and coming in three tempting flavors, original, barbecue, and cheese flavors — all popular with the grackles, other birds, squirrels, and with us.

One of our favorites was 'One Leggy' because we could recognize him hopping around as the rest walked or ran. He could fly as well as any of them. He was a real lesson in perseverance and survival.

I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make this a treatise on grackles, but I did want to tell you that they were very important to me and my husband. They were earthly (but not earthbound) reminders of the wonder of nature and the endless variety of small miracles that happen all around us every day.

Grackles, and all other parts of creation, deserve an audience, not hatred and persecution for being what they are: splendid creations whose very existence can bring an old man and old woman happiness and appreciation of a moment in time, of successive moments in time. They gave us the gift of hope and the belief that there is always more than meets the eye.

I am very grateful that my husband and I had the gift of grackles during his final weeks on this planet and, although I no longer go anywhere near the Vets' Home, I have started feeding the birds at home — mostly sparrows, doves, a Great Kiskadee or Green Jay, here and there, but my favorites are still the occasional oil-slick-purple-black male grackle or two and their equally amusing, but less colorful female consorts, in modest grayish brown.

I just wanted you to know that I'm glad you featured the grackle, who deserves so much more attention than it's often afforded. You also reminded me of that special time my husband and I spent together and the big part grackles played in making the last few months of his life enjoyable and, yes, actually fun.

Thanks so much for the reminder, Gregg.