The bluejay used to sit in a tree, in the middle of the yard, and assault me with its rusty-screen-door cries, till I opened the kitchen door and threw him out a couple of peanuts.
Now he has refined it. He sits on this metal hook or on the back of one of my patio chairs, both of which are closer to the back door than the tree is, and he just stares intently at me, through the glass door, tilting his head from side to side as if trying to figure out why I am being so slow.
I am glad that he is not shrieking at me any more but I have the feeling, somehow, that it is I who am being trained and not the other way around :)