A few days ago, my sponsor lost her imprint kestrel, and my immediate thought was that it was my fault.
It was the one day I'd gone to visit them in months. That night she lost him. I felt like the worlds biggest bad luck charm. That's not even adequate to describe it. I felt like my resistance to skipping a year in falconry, meant that God was taking it out on her, to show me once again that this year was a bad decision.
I just never learn.
Monica was infatuated with her kestrel, Anakin, more so than a normal falconer is with their bird. She had all these plans for him, all these goals she wanted to achieve. She had a billion things that she wanted to do. He was all that she talked about.
When imprint birds are lost, you only have a day or two to find them. Being raised with humans means that they don't know what they're doing in the wild and they die very quickly. Monica never found Anakin. And I still blame myself.
At this point, we're all just dying together and it's my fault.
Showing posts with label Falconer Friends. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Falconer Friends. Show all posts
Monday, December 28, 2015
Saturday, October 31, 2015
Plot Twist
Today was going really well. I took Petrie outside to fly for the first time and his responses were dead-on. So I backed up a bit, then backed up some more, and really soon, he was making 40 and 50 foot flights to my fist (first outdoor flight). Ya, I was over the moon.
About halfway through, a juvenile red-tailed hawk flew over my yard and scared Petrie, not because he made any effort to scare him, but just because he was big and scary. Petrie's response time sank like a rock. I started beefing up his rewards, because I had somewhere to be and it would get the session through quicker. Also, because I needed to feed him up a bit today because I noticed a new tail feather growing in.
We finished the session; I was very proud of it. First outdoor flight, 40-50 foot flights, immediate responses until the red tail showed up. It was awesome.
Less than a foot away from the door on our way back in the house, Petrie drops a mute with a big blood blot in the middle.
Crap.
Petrie is sick. With what, I'm not sure yet. Coccidiosis? Parasites? Internal bleeding? Impacted crop? I have no idea. He shows no other signs of sickness aside from loosing weight kinda slowly, but it's just on the slow side of healthy.
I rain check on my place-to-be and message my sponsor with the pictures. She messages a falconer friend with the pics. His best guess is internal bleeding from something pointy that he swallowed, like a splintered bone.
His next couple of mutes look healthy, and it's so late at night that there is nothing I can do until morning. So I put him in the giant hood with some fresh newspaper and make it late to place-to-be a bit late.
I come back home around 9:30 at night. His mutes while I was gone look healthy. I put him on the scale and immediately he drops a big mute over the side. It's got two little crimson spots in it. So do the next two mutes. At this point it's so late that I can't contact my sponsor, so instead I hop on here to record my thoughts before they're all lost.
Wish us luck...
About halfway through, a juvenile red-tailed hawk flew over my yard and scared Petrie, not because he made any effort to scare him, but just because he was big and scary. Petrie's response time sank like a rock. I started beefing up his rewards, because I had somewhere to be and it would get the session through quicker. Also, because I needed to feed him up a bit today because I noticed a new tail feather growing in.
We finished the session; I was very proud of it. First outdoor flight, 40-50 foot flights, immediate responses until the red tail showed up. It was awesome.
Less than a foot away from the door on our way back in the house, Petrie drops a mute with a big blood blot in the middle.
Crap.
Petrie is sick. With what, I'm not sure yet. Coccidiosis? Parasites? Internal bleeding? Impacted crop? I have no idea. He shows no other signs of sickness aside from loosing weight kinda slowly, but it's just on the slow side of healthy.
I rain check on my place-to-be and message my sponsor with the pictures. She messages a falconer friend with the pics. His best guess is internal bleeding from something pointy that he swallowed, like a splintered bone.
His next couple of mutes look healthy, and it's so late at night that there is nothing I can do until morning. So I put him in the giant hood with some fresh newspaper and make it late to place-to-be a bit late.
I come back home around 9:30 at night. His mutes while I was gone look healthy. I put him on the scale and immediately he drops a big mute over the side. It's got two little crimson spots in it. So do the next two mutes. At this point it's so late that I can't contact my sponsor, so instead I hop on here to record my thoughts before they're all lost.
Wish us luck...
 |
| The first bloody mute he dropped. |
Friday, October 30, 2015
Day 7
We did indoor ten foot flight to the fist today. He was really paying attention and nearly immediate with his responses. I started hiding the tidbit in the glove, then handing it to him when he landed. This should cement the reward system with the glove and teach him to look forward to my approaching hand. It's already working. His response time didn't slow at all the first time I asked him to come without showing him a tidbit.
He sits all puffed out all the time now, rouses, and preens. He'll sit with a foot tucked sometimes too, even on the fist. In fact, on the fist was the first time that he stood like that. He sleeps headless, too. He keeps at biting his jesses and bating, though. It's just because Petrie's a really high energy bird. I assume he will calm down once we really start flying. If not, walks in the morning and flights in the afternoon should keep him calm at home.
He lets me touch his feet and tarsi now, and doesn't mind too much when I touch his sides. He looks for tidbits when he sees my bare hand coming.
He doesn't take the hood really well yet, but I can get it on him. I may use his meal tomorrow to tidbit him during hood training. If not we will move outside. It depends on the weather tomorrow, because it's been rainy a bit lately.
On a slightly unrelated note, I started drivers ed and will finally get my license in June next year. This will make falconry so much easier and up my chances of getting a cooper's hawk next July.
Wish me luck, and happy hunting!
He sits all puffed out all the time now, rouses, and preens. He'll sit with a foot tucked sometimes too, even on the fist. In fact, on the fist was the first time that he stood like that. He sleeps headless, too. He keeps at biting his jesses and bating, though. It's just because Petrie's a really high energy bird. I assume he will calm down once we really start flying. If not, walks in the morning and flights in the afternoon should keep him calm at home.
He lets me touch his feet and tarsi now, and doesn't mind too much when I touch his sides. He looks for tidbits when he sees my bare hand coming.
He doesn't take the hood really well yet, but I can get it on him. I may use his meal tomorrow to tidbit him during hood training. If not we will move outside. It depends on the weather tomorrow, because it's been rainy a bit lately.
On a slightly unrelated note, I started drivers ed and will finally get my license in June next year. This will make falconry so much easier and up my chances of getting a cooper's hawk next July.
Wish me luck, and happy hunting!
Sunday, October 25, 2015
New Old Bird
Petrie's back!
I trapped him yesterday. It was amazing to watch. He's developed this serious stooping style of hunting. I watched him attack a magpie a couple of weeks ago and he repeatedly dive-bombed it with vertical stoops, then a sharp throw-up and a vertical climb, then he'd flip himself over and stoop again. He used this same tactic on the sparrow in the Bal-Chatri.
He was on a powerline a ways up a loooong driveway. I dropped the BC about 15 feet up the driveway and he was probably another 45 feet from that. I (on my bike) pulled out of the driveway and around some bushes. He noticed the trap quickly, but waited for a couple of minutes to go for it. He swept in with a smooth glide from his spot on the line, then angled downward and made his first stoop. He stooped at it a few times, making U shapes in the air. Then he hovered about a foot over it, before bailing and going back to the line. He landed closer to the trap than he was at first, and after a couple of minutes he did the whole routine again. Stoop, climb, stoop, climb, stoop, climb, hover, bail. He landed just a few feet away on a fence post. There he waited for several minutes. He made one more try, only to land on another post after a short hover. Then quickly, he turned around and hit the trap. I watched until I saw his angry wings flapping around, then sped my bike over to collect him. It was fantastic.
I got him to my house, where I weighed him and called my sponsor. He weighed 112.5 at trapping. The first time I trapped Petrie he weighed 100 on the dot. I have my doubts that this is Petrie, because anything could have happened since I released him last spring. But this bird looks about the right age, and I've never seen another kestrel in that field in all the time I've lived here. Still unsure, I refer to him as "Little King".
I keep him hooded an socked until my sponsor gets to my house. We start to jess him up, but realize that she's forgotten her grommet setters at her house, and I don't have any. So we take Little King back to her house, where she's got her imprint male kestrel, Anakin. He churrups for food as soon as he sees us and Little King squirms in my hand.
Anakin goes outside to weather and Monica and I get the anklets and jesses on this new bird. I unhood him there. He flaps and flails and bates, but tames down quickly and I soon realize that it is, in fact, Petrie. In the while that he's been a wild bird, he's learned to bite and not let go. He catches my finger and I have to pull his beak out, ripping my skin. Oh, well.
Two hours later, he is standing fairly calmly on the fist and just starting to regain the glove after a bate. Monica has somewhere to be, so I hood him, which is no simple affair (like it used to be). He's convinced he's dead now, and won't stand upright, so he rides home laying on his back in my lap.
We spend the rest of the day manning and hood training. He eats some sparrow from off the fist. I still refer to him as Little King, although I know that, yes, this is Petrie.
I don't know if I'll let him go again.
I trapped him yesterday. It was amazing to watch. He's developed this serious stooping style of hunting. I watched him attack a magpie a couple of weeks ago and he repeatedly dive-bombed it with vertical stoops, then a sharp throw-up and a vertical climb, then he'd flip himself over and stoop again. He used this same tactic on the sparrow in the Bal-Chatri.
He was on a powerline a ways up a loooong driveway. I dropped the BC about 15 feet up the driveway and he was probably another 45 feet from that. I (on my bike) pulled out of the driveway and around some bushes. He noticed the trap quickly, but waited for a couple of minutes to go for it. He swept in with a smooth glide from his spot on the line, then angled downward and made his first stoop. He stooped at it a few times, making U shapes in the air. Then he hovered about a foot over it, before bailing and going back to the line. He landed closer to the trap than he was at first, and after a couple of minutes he did the whole routine again. Stoop, climb, stoop, climb, stoop, climb, hover, bail. He landed just a few feet away on a fence post. There he waited for several minutes. He made one more try, only to land on another post after a short hover. Then quickly, he turned around and hit the trap. I watched until I saw his angry wings flapping around, then sped my bike over to collect him. It was fantastic.
I got him to my house, where I weighed him and called my sponsor. He weighed 112.5 at trapping. The first time I trapped Petrie he weighed 100 on the dot. I have my doubts that this is Petrie, because anything could have happened since I released him last spring. But this bird looks about the right age, and I've never seen another kestrel in that field in all the time I've lived here. Still unsure, I refer to him as "Little King".
I keep him hooded an socked until my sponsor gets to my house. We start to jess him up, but realize that she's forgotten her grommet setters at her house, and I don't have any. So we take Little King back to her house, where she's got her imprint male kestrel, Anakin. He churrups for food as soon as he sees us and Little King squirms in my hand.
Anakin goes outside to weather and Monica and I get the anklets and jesses on this new bird. I unhood him there. He flaps and flails and bates, but tames down quickly and I soon realize that it is, in fact, Petrie. In the while that he's been a wild bird, he's learned to bite and not let go. He catches my finger and I have to pull his beak out, ripping my skin. Oh, well.
Two hours later, he is standing fairly calmly on the fist and just starting to regain the glove after a bate. Monica has somewhere to be, so I hood him, which is no simple affair (like it used to be). He's convinced he's dead now, and won't stand upright, so he rides home laying on his back in my lap.
We spend the rest of the day manning and hood training. He eats some sparrow from off the fist. I still refer to him as Little King, although I know that, yes, this is Petrie.
I don't know if I'll let him go again.
Sunday, October 18, 2015
Trapping
Today was the most problematic trapping experience I have ever had. I went out with my sponsor, Monica, early in the morning (though not as early as I would have liked). We drive out into the middle of nowhere and set out the trap for, what turns out to be, a haggard male kestrel. I pull him off the trap and he is banded, TWICE! We call in the bands, then turn him lose. Hop back in the car and, Guess what? The car won't start; the battery's got a problem. We call my dad and comes with jumper cables and gets us back on the road. But then we realize that neither one of us has out licensing on us. So we go back to my house to get my license. While we're there, dad takes a moment to fix up Monica's battery, just scraping some baking soda mess out of the connection. We head back out, but right as we turn the first corner from my house, the sparrow in the trap gets its head through a noose on the bal-chatri. I cut the line on the noose, but it's still around her neck. So I stupidly try to pull her out and get it off her neck. Then she slips out of the trap and is free in the car. We spend fifteen minutes trying to get her, but we can't. So we head to a local Zamzows and get a mouse. By now, we have less than an hour left to trap, and within that hour we get nothing. This is the first time that I've gone out trapping and not come home with my bird. We're headed out again Monday.
On another note, I went to a dance tonight. I got out of the car and one of my friends points out a mouse running across the sidewalk. Guess what this little falconer girl does? Of course I catch it. It takes me a while, and I'm worried about the plague that's been out and about. I manage to step on it's tail, though, then thoracic compression it with my feet. So now I'm at a dance, with a dead vole, ten miles from my house and no ride. So I stick the mouse in the freezer that's conveniently in the building and go to the dance. I managed to smuggle it into my mom's car in a fast-food box. Oh, the crazy things us falconers do.
On another note, I went to a dance tonight. I got out of the car and one of my friends points out a mouse running across the sidewalk. Guess what this little falconer girl does? Of course I catch it. It takes me a while, and I'm worried about the plague that's been out and about. I manage to step on it's tail, though, then thoracic compression it with my feet. So now I'm at a dance, with a dead vole, ten miles from my house and no ride. So I stick the mouse in the freezer that's conveniently in the building and go to the dance. I managed to smuggle it into my mom's car in a fast-food box. Oh, the crazy things us falconers do.
Wednesday, May 21, 2014
MAJOR update
So....
How's the last year treated ya?
Sorry about the massive gap between posts there. My computer randomly became incompatible with blogspot.
Long Before April 7:
My dad said that I couldn't get a falcon...
I fell into depression...
April 7:
I'm not sure that I've told you about the falconer that lives on Marteeson. I have seen them out manning their Harris', but I couldn't ever talk to them about falconry because their front yard was fenced off and their front door was removed. But I know there's a falconer that lives there.
I met them today. I was biking to the library and passed their house just as they pulled in. She started walking to the back gate and I stepped in the driveway and called, "excuse me?"
Her reaction to "I'm Anna and I'm interested in falconry," surprised me. I expected an interrogation to figure out whether I was really up for falconry. Instead she invited me in. Her name is Kelly. She has a harris' hawk named Delta and a Finnish goshawk named Aussie. Then she gave me a list of contacts, and a list of books to collect, and a list of things to learn over the summer.
Then she let me hold her harris hawk.
And a hallelujah chorus started singing in the back of my head.
It was great.
I proceeded to bike home and Facebook message every single person on the contact list. I got one reply out of six. Monica (the replier) and I met up that same week where she offered to sponsor me with the help of two or three other people. So fortunately for me, I have the unique option to have three sponsors. I accepted.
During the rest of the afternoon with Monica, we got things figured out. I'm going to have a kestrel. I'll keep it in my room so my dad and the HOA don't complain about the mews in the backyard. I'll trap in the fall.
That gave me roughly six months to get everything ready... and pass my test.
Since then:
How's the last year treated ya?
Sorry about the massive gap between posts there. My computer randomly became incompatible with blogspot.
Long Before April 7:
My dad said that I couldn't get a falcon...
I fell into depression...
April 7:
I'm not sure that I've told you about the falconer that lives on Marteeson. I have seen them out manning their Harris', but I couldn't ever talk to them about falconry because their front yard was fenced off and their front door was removed. But I know there's a falconer that lives there.
I met them today. I was biking to the library and passed their house just as they pulled in. She started walking to the back gate and I stepped in the driveway and called, "excuse me?"
Her reaction to "I'm Anna and I'm interested in falconry," surprised me. I expected an interrogation to figure out whether I was really up for falconry. Instead she invited me in. Her name is Kelly. She has a harris' hawk named Delta and a Finnish goshawk named Aussie. Then she gave me a list of contacts, and a list of books to collect, and a list of things to learn over the summer.
Then she let me hold her harris hawk.
And a hallelujah chorus started singing in the back of my head.
It was great.
I proceeded to bike home and Facebook message every single person on the contact list. I got one reply out of six. Monica (the replier) and I met up that same week where she offered to sponsor me with the help of two or three other people. So fortunately for me, I have the unique option to have three sponsors. I accepted.
During the rest of the afternoon with Monica, we got things figured out. I'm going to have a kestrel. I'll keep it in my room so my dad and the HOA don't complain about the mews in the backyard. I'll trap in the fall.
That gave me roughly six months to get everything ready... and pass my test.
Since then:
 |
| Unfinished Mews |
- I've built my mews
- I've bought the two falconry books my sponsor recommended (Falconry Equpments by Kimsey and Hodge, American Kestrels in Modern Falconry by Matthew Mullenix)
- I've built two sparrow traps
- I've started working on my giant hood
- I've ordered my leashes from Western Sporting
- I've gotten my hunting licence
- I've decided that this summer is going to be the longest summer of my life
 |
| Unfinished Giant Hood |
 |
| The Books my Sponsor Recommended |
 |
| Hunting Licence and Hat |
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