I had a dream that my cousin's son was going to kill a baby crow. There was an adult crow sitting on the ground not too far away but the child in the dream seemed to be ignoring it. That crow he was calling Winnie the Pooh and he said there would be a funeral for it. He said he raised that crow to shoot. I attempted to save the baby crow but I didn't want to touch it. It was lying on its back and its mouth was wide open in the way that baby birds do when they are hungry (I've always thought baby birds looked odd when they did this). The baby crow bit onto a stick and I sort of swept it away but it landed on an anthill. The baby crow then made some strange sounds like a human baby. I then swept it into a mud puddle to get the ants off of it (although they were black ants they were stinging the crow). At that point I grew up.