We used to think we hated crows. Always waking us up with their obnoxious morning caw! caw! caw!, grossing us out when they picked at the dead animals in the road, freaking us out when they gathered ominously in tree branches under the gray sky. We can’t say we were too sorry when the West Nile virus swept through the neighborhood and cleared out the carrion-gulping, Gestapo-clad vermin. Goodbye, ravens, see you nevermore.

But after a few crow-free years, we saw a startling sight. A crow spread its glossy wings and swooped from one tree to another, right in front of our house. It seemed tentative, with none of the swagger that it carried in its heyday. Maybe it was cautiously checking out the neighborhood to see if the other birds would let it move in. Or maybe the West Nile plague had taught it some humility. Anyway, our hearts sprung. We realized we actually missed the loud, hateful things. Its coal-black presence returned our street to a past we didn’t know we’d lost. It just seemed to make sense there, somehow – must be in our Midwestern blood. Come back, crows. All is forgiven.

Besides, somebody needs to take these cocky blue jays down a peg.

This shirt was designed by: Ray Frenden, a self-taught illustrator who makes a living drawing monsters and robots. He can’t believe it either. Pinch Frenden if you come across him in the wild.

Wear this shirt: to frighten mice, frogs, insects, and beached fish.

Don’t wear this shirt: if your name is Jim and you live in the South. Just to be on the safe side.

This shirt tells the world: “Mess with the crow, you get the beak.”

We call this color: Caw-Caw-Cream.

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