Invasion of the Nestbox Snatchers

This article discusses animal harm and animal death, caused both by humans and other animals, that may be upsetting to some readers. Reader discretion is advised.

Yesterday, while I was volunteering, a woman came into the nature store asking if we had any nest boxes designed specifically for swallows. A pair of violet-green swallows had been using the box she’d set up next to her house for years, but last year a pair of house sparrows had taken it over, and after a few scuffles with them the pair of swallows had left. She was worried they wouldn’t come back again, but wanted to set up a new box just in case, since there was little chance of getting the sparrows to abandon the old one that they had claimed as their own. Later that day, when I went downtown to get lunch at a pod of food carts, I saw approximately two dozen house sparrows fighting over what looked like spilled chips, chasing away the much larger rock doves that tried to get in on the meal. When someone tried to shoo them away, they lifted into flight almost as one before settling right back down as soon as the “intruder” had walked away, causing laughter from several people gathered around on the sidewalk waiting for their food to be ready.

If you live pretty much anywhere in the United States that isn’t Alaska, there is an almost 100% chance that you have seen, heard, or been in close proximity to a house sparrow (Passer domesticus). They’re what most people think of when they hear the word sparrow; the females are dusty brown all over with fairly minimal markings, while the males have black beards and chestnut heads with white cheeks and grey caps. Like crows and rock doves, they’ve succeeded where other species have failed by adapting easily to urban areas, and are perfectly comfortable nesting in the eaves of houses and in drain pipes. They eat grain and other seeds along with insects, but they’re most commonly seen stealing food from the tables of people eating outside with increasing boldness and fighting over those same scraps among themselves. They’re native to North Africa, Europe, and some parts of Asia, but since their initial introduction to New York in 1851, they’ve been making themselves at home in the States.

They don’t look threatening. Compared to more obvious invaders like kudzu, zebra mussels, and European carp, they don’t seem like they would pose much of a danger to the native bird species they’ve found themselves to be neighbors with. Even European starlings, North America’s other extremely common invasive bird that was introduced to the States on purpose, look more threatening than they do, especially when they raise their head feathers.

However, house sparrows (and European starlings, in fact) are cavity nesters. As I mentioned, they’re comfortable living in cavity-adjacent spaces like pipes and other man-made objects, but their natural nesting place is in cavities like the ones found in trees and cacti. Dozens of native birds are also cavity nesters, including but not limited to bluebirds, woodpeckers, swallows, nuthatches, owls, wrens, and chickadees. Cavities provide safe places to rear hatchlings. Recently, birdhouses and other nest boxes have provided man-made cavities for birds to raise their young in, often providing an inside look into the lives that these animals lead. And it’s in the competition for a cavity to nest in that the trouble really begins.

House sparrows don’t migrate and often start breeding in midwinter, which gives them the first choice of nesting sites before most species have even returned from their trip to warmer climates. They can breed practically from the moment they mature, and raise clutches that usually consist of five eggs, which they do two times (or sometimes more, in warmer climates) per breeding season. Compare this to another cavity nester, a native one this time, like a tree swallow-which usually lays around four to seven eggs, with only one or two that even hatch at all-or a western bluebird-which usually lays around five eggs, and can raise two broods in a good year-and it’s clear that when it comes to the population game, house sparrows were designed to outcompete other birds. But that’s not all-house sparrows will often physically fight with native birds (and occasionally European starlings) for nesting spots. Once inside, if another species has already built a nest, they will destroy it, killing the hatchings or smashing the eggs and either chasing the parent or parents away or killing them. Horrifyingly, when attacking adult birds, house sparrows go for the head and eyes, often decapitating their opponents or scratching their eyes out.

It can be argued that the destruction of nests by other birds (whether that bird is another species looking to take over the nest or a male hoping to spread his genetic material once the previous eggs and/or chicks are gone) is a natural part of a bird’s life cycle. It’s true that native species do this too-take the tree swallows I mentioned above, for instance, as males will often destroy eggs fertilized by another male and will attempt to do the same to chicks unless the female stops them. House wrens, another common native bird, will also peck holes in the eggs of other species and build their nests on top of other ones made by a different species. But what makes all the difference is that house sparrows aren’t native. Being better at outcompeting actually native species is a win for them in a way it wouldn’t be for a western bluebird or a downy woodpecker. They don’t belong here, and the infanticide they commit and the cavity nesting competition they provide has been linked to a decline in native species of bluebird around the United States.

So what can you do to stop this subtle invasion? Unfortunately, house sparrows are adept at squeezing into small spaces, and while buying or building a nest box with a smaller entry hole will keep out larger competitors like European starlings, it won’t do much to stop a determined sparrow. While house sparrows tend to live closer to humans and man-made structures like barns and setting up a nest box farther from humans and urban environments will give you a higher chance of getting a nesting pair of woodpeckers, nuthatches, swallows, or another native species, it’s not foolproof. They also avoid boxes low to the ground, but those can attract cats or raccoons to vulnerable native chicks or eggs. Some people plug the entrances to their boxes in the winter so early-breeding sparrows can’t nest in them, then remove the block once migratory birds come back (though this does make nonmigratory native species like chickadees and nuthatches wait their turn as well), but since house sparrows nest at least twice per season, this isn’t always an adequate deterrent. It can be tiring, but constantly removing the nest from the box each time they rebuild it can often convince them to settle elsewhere. Specially made Sparrow Chasers and Sparrow Shields can scare them off, but that sometimes has the unintended consequence of spooking native birds away, too. If you’re trying to specifically attract bluebirds, a nestbox made from PVC might do the trick, since house sparrows are reluctant to nest in them while bluebirds find them just right.

To avoid attracting them to feeders, the Sparrow Shields mentioned above can often double as feeder protectors. Switching up seed combinations from mixes made with mainly corn and millet to seeds like nyjer and black oil sunflower (both of which are goldfinch favorites) can sometimes encourage them to leave to find the food they prefer at another feeder.

There are other more aggressive methods for getting rid of them as well. House sparrows are invasive, which means that they aren’t protected under the Migratory Bird Treaty Act (an act designed to protect native bird species by making it illegal to harm or harass native species, including their nests, eggs, and chicks (though many species of ducks, geese, and other game birds have limited protection and as such can be hunted seasonally with the right permit). If you read YouTube’s Corvid Problem, it’s also the act that forbids people from owning wild birds without a permit). What this means is that there are no laws against trapping and humanely euthanizing them, although of course you should always check your local laws first, as well as make sure that you haven’t actually caught a native sparrow that looks similar to an invader like a song sparrow. Relocation of a house sparrow after capture is strongly discouraged, as this does nothing more than relocate the problem. House sparrows and starlings humanely euthanized without harmful chemicals are often donated to raptor rehabilitators and sanctuaries. There are traps like the Gilbertson House In-Box Trap and ground traps available for purchase online, as well as discussions on how to safely euthanize house sparrows without harming native birds or yourself, as well as not causing extreme unnecessary stress to the captured sparrow.

All invasive animals, from feral house cats to house sparrows, are a threat to the ecosystems they have been introduced to. But as much as we sometimes wish we could, we can’t turn back time and stop them from being introduced in the first place. The most we can do now is try to minimize their damage, try to learn from our mistakes, and hope that the violet-green swallows come back to our boxes.

For more information about trapping, euthanizing, or otherwise controlling house sparrows (and other aggressive nestbox invaders like European starlings), visit the official site of the Michigan Bluebird Society, the bluebird-focused forum Sialis, and the site NestWatch. (Warning: the Sialis forum in particular has links to accounts, pictures, and videos of house sparrow attacks on native birds that may be upsetting or disturbing to some viewers.)

YouTube’s Corvid Problem

I volunteer at my local Audubon Society. Founded in 1902, it’s separate from the other Audubon Societies in the United States. As of right now (February 28th, 2019), they have five education animals living on the property. Education animals cannot be released back into the wild for a variety of possible reasons, and instead are given the best lives possible in captivity, as well as used to educate the public about animals that they would most likely otherwise not come in contact with up close.

Out of the five animals living at my Audubon Society, the most popular with the public by far is Aristophanes (Ari for short), our common raven. Ravens are incredibly smart, and they’ve adapted well to urban environments, though not quite as well as their crow relatives have. They’re huge, sleekly black all over, and one of the most charismatic bird species on the planet. They’re also extremely loud, possessive of the people they bond with, often refuse to bond with anyone but their original owners, messy, and in captivity can lead lives of over fifty years (anecdotal evidence suggests that they can live to be 80 in captivity, while the average lifespan for a wild common raven is about 15 years). They’re illegal to own without a special permit, and all of these things, even things that seem like upsides like their wide vocabularies, make them absolutely terrible pets.

But that’s exactly what Ari was for the beginning of his life. It’s unknown how he fell into the hands of someone who wanted to keep him as a pet, but what we do know is that he’s completely imprinted on humans and incapable of fending for himself in the wild. Imprinting doesn’t mean that he thinks he’s a human being because he was raised by one, but it does mean that Ari has no idea how to live as a wild raven, and it would endanger him if he were to be released and left to fend for himself in the wild. Whatever the intentions of the person who raised him, they ended up causing Ari to have to permanently live in captivity, instead of becoming the wild raven that he was meant to be, and while I don’t think they were influenced by social media, there’s a trend I’ve seen that really bothers me.

I’ve taken and shared videos of Ari interacting with other volunteers or doing enrichment activities before, as have many other Audubon visitors and volunteers. I’ve seen plenty of videos of ravens and crows that I’ve never met taken by wildlife rehabilitators around the country. The resident ravens at the Tower of London come to mind as another example of captive ravens that have videos of their behavior floating around the internet. But those aren’t the only captive ravens and crows that are famous.

YouTube has tons of videos if you search “pet raven”, both of ravens and crows. There’s a video called “How to Find a Baby Raven and Make It A Pet” on the first page of results (meaning the page doesn’t have to load at the bottom). This video has 91k views. Another one by the same YouTuber, also of his raven, has 637k views. A video called “Guide to Keeping a Pet Raven or Crow” has 8.7k views. A video called “The Joys of Pet Raven Ownership pt.2” has 1.5 million views. The video with the most views that I could find, which had 10 million views, was of Mischief (an education bird) mimicking speech (which, yes, ravens can do, and yes, it does get very annoying very fast).

You can see the problem here already. While I have no ethical issue with the existence of ravens being kept in captivity for education or in special cases like the Tower of London ravens, there is a clear and obvious issue in presenting owning ravens as easy, legal, or anything other than an expensive secondary job. Zoos, wildlife rehabilitation centers, and other organizations like them have the money and resources to properly care for these extremely intelligent birds. Ravens are not domesticated animals, and while they are trainable, it takes a lot of time and effort, something most people don’t have. They require a large enclosure they can fly freely in, lots of enrichment to keep them from getting bored and destructive, and plenty of attention to make sure they don’t get sick. Their diet must be varied to combat malnutrition. All of this, of course, on top of receiving the proper paperwork the United States government requires to allow someone to own a raven legally in the first place, something most people don’t go through. Instead, they simply take a baby bird from the wild, then find themselves with an irritable adult raven that cannot be released back into the wild.

Blind encouragement from strangers on the internet to acquire a raven isn’t the only reason people try to raise them as pets, of course. Often, people will see a fledgeling bird on the ground (baby crows are an especially common sight in urban environments, since crows get along so well in cities and suburbs) and assume that it needs human help, taking it in and attempting to raise it. If the bird doesn’t die, they will either try to keep it or release it. When the released bird inevitably refuses to leave, they end up continuing to keep it, often not knowing that it’s illegal to do so. Of course ravens and crows aren’t the only bird this happens to, but the sudden influx of videos and pictures of people with their pet ravens and crows (owls are another bird that everyone seems very enamored with recently) can do little but harm in the long run.

Remember, if you see a baby bird that needs help, don’t try to take care of it unless you are a licensed wildlife rehabilitator. If you’re not, bring it to one, or to your local domestic animal vet, since they’ll usually have the information of the nearest wildlife rehabilitation center or animal hospital willing to take it off your hands. Stick to watching videos of corvids on YouTube, or, if you have the money, see if your local wildlife hospital or sanctuary has one as an education bird. Sponsoring it will be more rewarding for both of you, and won’t lead to you being fined for illegally owning a wild animal.

Ravens are smart, social birds, and they’re absolutely beautiful. I understand the desire to want one as a pet. But remember as you’re watching YouTube videos of people showing off their pet ravens and crows that they’re wild animals. And wild animals never make good pets. Even when they look good YouTube.