Paul Whittaker Crows are a common sight around the SPU campus, but thanks to the "demon crow," students are watching the local black birds with careful eyes.

Sophomore Sarah Fisher was standing outside of Emerson, talking on her phone near Sixth Avenue and the Falcon Apartments when she felt something hit the back of her head.

"I had no idea what it was until I saw this crow fly up to the top of Emerson," she said. "Then it swooped down and grabbed my hair, then it flew off, cawing, and I army-crawled back into Emerson."

After her encounters with the bird, Fisher said she no longer uses the Second West Emerson door, the quickest way to Demaray Hall and Gwinn Commons.

"I live in fear of the bird," she said.

This problem, reoccurring since last spring, has caused Emerson residents to watch their backs when leaving the building. Multiple students have reported being "attacked" around campus by the local crow.

Vic Peirsol, assistant director of Safety and Security, said there are actually two crows.

"The crows have a nest, and they think that students are a threat," he said.

Although Peirsol said he has received two or three formal complaints, Safety and Security is not doing anything about the birds.

"It's nature taking its course. This lasts a short period of time -- students will just have to keep an eye out for them," he said.

Timothy Lee, a sophomore, said he was attacked four or five times at the end of last year and twice already this year.

"I'll tell my friends, and they'll laugh because it's happened to them, too," he said.

Sophomore Bernard Nguyen created a Facebook.com group in April of last year, called "I've been attacked by the Demon Crow." Within three weeks of creation, 66 people had joined the group. To date, over 85 students have joined; several members have posted their experiences and plotted ways to get rid of the bird.

The name "Demon Crow" originated because of an ongoing joke between Nguyen and his friends, he said.

Nguyen, who has been attacked numerous times, has tried unsuccessfully to catch the crow.

"One time I put myself up as bait. I was watching my shadow and when I saw the shadow of the crow, I turned around and tried to catch it, but it obviously didn't work," he said.

The attacks take place between Emerson and Safety and Security, between Gwinn and Demaray, and in Tiffany Loop, where squirrels also fall prey to the offending birds, he said.

"It's kinda funny; I don't think there's any harm to it," Nguyen said.

When the bird attacked him near the C-Store earlier this month, freshman Cody Rothwell said he had never heard anything about the crow attacks.

"All of a sudden I felt something hit me on the back of my head and heard a caw," he said. "I thought a bird pooped on me, but then I saw this bird perched up on the wire, staring at me. It followed me. Then it went back and attacked someone else."

Sophomore Andrew Huskamp has also been witnessing the attacks since last year.

"It swoops down -- sometimes it makes contact, sometimes it just grazes you," he said. However, Huskamp said, the crow always attacks from behind.

According to the Washington Department of Fish and Wildlife Web site, waving one's arms slowly above one's head may keep dive-bombing crows at a distance. The site also suggested wearing a hat or helmet, or carrying an umbrella.

Fisher and her roommate Liz Andes, a junior, have another theory about the bird: "If you look it in the eyes, it won't get you, but as soon as you turn your head, it will scrape you."