Looking Forward Without Moving On

It's been a month and a half since I found out Petrie was dead. It feels like longer. Nevertheless, I have my apprenticeship to finish, so I've been keeping my eyes open for passage birds in the area.

I wasn't legal to trap until now (nor did I want to), because I'd trapped my 2 birds in 2015. But now it's 2016 and I can trap again.

Here are my options:

1) Misty. She roosts in my neighbors porch and is just the most beautiful female I have ever laid eyes on. The coloration on her chest isn't just brown on white, but black on brown on white which makes for a very beautiful muddled hot cocoa and marshmallows look. I think she's a haggard, but I find that I really like the gusto haggards have.

2) Luke. He lives in the local park and he is a butt. He is the reason I can't train my birds in the local park, or really anywhere near my house because he's claimed such a freaking huge territory. Really, I'm not too enthusiastic about him, but hunting with him would mean that I might finally be able to train in the park. Up until I let him go.

3) Fenoglio. The wild passage I have yet to meet. Really, I only have a few months left of the season to fly a bird, and a passage would mean less training time and more hunting time. This is probably the best choice for my situation, but Misty might have just captured my heart.

I don't really know what I'll do. What I do know is that I need to order some BioThane for making anklets. Luckily, this teenager finally found a suitable job.

And, while I've got your attention, I might as well tell you my plans for next season, because they're one of the few things that help me look forward to life after Petrie. The Cooper's hawk is not an option because my parents are not comfortable with an accipiter in the house. But, I will be moving up to a merlin. I'm planning on trapping a female Columbarius (the ones here are black as black comes) and hunting her on doves by waiting on. Maybe at some starling flocks too, depending on the season and what she takes to.

And I've finally got my telemetry, so things will go better now. No more losing birds.

I'm Back, But Petrie Isn't

This is about to get personal, dramatic, and a little religious, so there's your warning.

This whole season, I've had what I would describe as "a rock in my stomach" about falconry. I love falconry. You should know this by now. I can't fully describe the love that I have for this sport. I am in this for life. But I've had this feeling, like God was letting me know that falconry wasn't a good idea this year.

Now, I'm only a second year apprentice. I can't just skip a year. That's skipping half of my apprenticeship. And even if I could skip a year, there is not a single thing on the earth that would have convinced me to do so.

So, I got my bird; Bellatrix.

Then I lost my bird.

Then I got another bird; Petrie. I worked with Petrie. He was the most perfect bird I could ever hope for, but I couldn't provide enough game for him. That's the reason I let him go at the end of the season. I didn't want him to become dependent on me and end up unreleasable. But letting him spend a summer as a wild bird was exactly what he needed, and he was going to be perfect this season.

We started free flying and he was ready for hunting, but I had things going on that week, so we couldn't hunt quite yet.

On Tuesday, I started getting ready for our outing. We were going to go for a walk through the subdivision so he could get a lesson on following. This is where the bird is released completely and expected to move from perch to perch or in a soar and follow the falconer. Petrie was very good at this last year.

But I had a bad feeling.

So I took my time getting out of the house. I found my good boots. I did my hair. I put on my makeup. I did all the stupid little things I could to postpone our outing that day.

Then we went out, and Petrie was being perfect. He followed me like he hadn't gone anywhere over the summer. He hopped from rooftop to rooftop with little prompting.

Then a wild female came in. I didn't scream at her because I didn't want to freak out the neighbors on their porches, mistake number one.

Petrie ran from her and hid in a tree; her tree. She knocked him right out of it and the two tumbled to the ground. One stood on top of the other, but I couldn't tell which. There was a fence between us, that I should have just vaulted, but I didn't because I spent too many extra seconds worried about my bird and trespassing, mistake number two.

Finally, the two untangled themselves and Petrie took flight over my head. I frantically threw the lure out, even though there was nothing on it, mistake number three. He went for it, then skyed-up at the last moment. She chased him into another kestrel's territory and he chased him into another's until they were too far away for me to even know what to do. I can't drive and no one was home to drive me.

So I went home and cried. And as soon as people got home, they took me to a rehearsal I had for a play I didn't enjoy, that took up all my time. Mistake number four was going to rehearsals. I should have just dropped out. I knew I wasn't going to enjoy it and I knew that it was going to take up my time. And I let it.

Mistake number five was letting other things take up my search time.

Mistake number six was flying him in those oversized jesses.

Mistake number seven was not telling anyone but my sponsor.

Mistake number eight was thinking he would be okay.

A week later I had a borderline panic attack at 10 pm. I vowed to myself that I would go searching for him the next morning and only come back when I had him.

Mistake number nine was letting my mom convince me that she needed my help Christmas shopping. Even if I didn't go with her, though, I wouldn't be able to search half as well without the car. So mistake number nine was also letting myself wait till the next day.

That morning, someone found him dead in their pool.

That afternoon I picked up his body at their house.

That night I buried him.

I can't describe the rest of that week deeply enough. Petrie was dead and it's because I couldn't accept that I wasn't supposed to do falconry this season. I just wasn't.

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.

Trapping

     I'm going trapping on Friday; Bellatrix is gone. Yesterday I trapped a pretty female kestrel while I was out looking for Bellatrix. She was an interesting thing. The coloration on her head looked like a male, but the coloration on her tail and chest looked like a female. Her wings had blue and red in them. I knew she was a female, though, because she was hanging out with a male and she weighed in at 122g.

     I'm planning on retrapping Petrie, from last season. He's stuck around where I released him. But I don't always see him, and he's really good an feeding himself early in the mornings, so I don't know how likely it is that I'll get him. I won't stress it too much; retrapping him is just an idea. 

     If I don't get Petrie, I'm going after a passage. I just don't have the resources to keep a haggard. I can't get bag them enough to break the carrying habit, and I can't hunt them on starlings, because I can't drive. Also, I'm losing the season here, so I want to get hunting as soon as possible. 

     Wish me luck.

Lost (continued)

     I go out looking for Bellatrix again this morning. There Isn't much area to look in. I've already heavily checked the most likely places and found resident kestrels everywhere else. Still, I bike around for a few hours with my trap, mouse, lure, and hawking bag. Tomorrow, I vow, I will bring extra jesses. She's probably lost her's by now. But she's no where to be seen, so I don't need them today.
     Finally, I don't know where else to look. I sit on the side of the street for ten minutes trying to decide where to go looking for her. I've checked everywhere, some places multiple times. I can't station myself somewhere and whistle for her; she's not that responsive. If I get her back, it will be because I happened to end up within 50 feet of her and she happened to be hungry. But I have four square miles - which she's not even guaranteed to be in. If I do happen to find her, she's probably wild enough now to ignore me completely.
     I suppose that's why I have the trap, though. Hopefully she won't mind watching me set it out.
     It all suddenly seems hopeless.
     So I bike in the opposite direction from where she's likely to be. Petrie's there in his field, hunting. I watch him, try to call him down to the lure - he was rather fantastic at chasing it. But he's been wild for months now so he pays no attention.
     Seagulls chase him off, but he comes back out a minute later. He hovers over the field, stoops, rises again. I watch him antagonize a magpie, trying to decide if he wants it dead or gone. He swings over to the power line in the property owner's long driveway and I speed my way to him. I try to lay out the Bal-Chatri below him, but he pays no attention. I go to move it closer to him, but he's having none of it and my next peak at his spot shows an empty wire.
     I put my trap back in the basket on my bike, then take a moment with the horse that lives in Petrie's field. He's a gorgeous black Clydesdale that's taken a liking to me. I've heard his name is Jack, but I've never spoken to his owners, so I'm not completely sure.
     I bike out of the driveway and back to the side of the road. Petrie is still hunting. I watch his stoops and almost walk out into the field to set my trap, but there is construction going on to the side of the field and they'd call the police on my trespassing.
     Petrie catches a mouse. He flies up to my stretch of power line to eat it. I set out my bal-chatri, but I know it's useless. Petrie spooks and flies off to an island of trees standing out in the flat acreage to finish his meal in peace.
     I sit with Jack for a while longer, but eventually I realize that it's 11:45 and I promised myself I'd be back home by noon to do my schoolwork. So I leave.

Lost

     I walk with Bellatrix to the park today for our training session, in hopes that she will learn to be responsive in places other than my backyard, even though I know there is a wild male kestrel that lives in the park. He doesn't normally have the guts to get close enough to cause problems so I ignore his presence (mistake 1). We start with a couple of flights to the fist on the creance so that I can see how responsive she is. She hesitates a bit, but I free fly her anyway (mistake 2). I tell myself that I'm doing so because she's more responsive to the lure than the glove, but really it's because free flying her is so exhilarating. She takes her spot in a nearby tree and I call her to the lure. I drag it a little, but the movement spooks her and she swoops over to a fence. 

     The wild male calls overhead and takes his spot in the tree. 

     I swing, then drop the lure again, whistling for Bellatrix. She comes quicker than I expected, but that is a very good thing. She bates with it immediately, and I completely understand why. I make in to her as soon as I can to ease her discomfort. She eats her reward, the back half of a mouse, while I tid-bit her occasionally. I trade her off and set her loose again, completely forgetting the wild male (mistake 3). 

     She swings up into the tree and is immediately taken after by the wild male. He takes the style of a gyrfalcon, repeated swooping passes from one direction then the other. Bellatrix screams at him and dives from the tree, making a low-altitude escape. But the wild male comes in and grabs her. She screeches and dashes over the rooftops; he lands on the nearest house to watch her leave. I mistake him for her and pause for a moment before chasing after my bird. She's quite some distance away now, but I see where she's going. 

     I sprint in the same direction, pausing in any open areas I can to throw the lure around a few times. A car pulls up to the edge of the empty lot I'm in and watches me. I try to decide if I should stay or go; they probably think I'm a nutcase (not an entirely false accusation). They pull away and I decide to go home and get the car. 

     Mom drives me around to a few different fields where she might have gone. I look for any stand of trees in the direction Bellatrix took that she may have hidden in. No luck, she won't be found. 

     I decide to go home. I have work to do and Bellatrix is not going to move in the circumstances. She's stressed, not super hungry, and possibly injured.

     I beat myself up for all the mistakes. She has no bells on because she chipped her beak biting them and I took them off. She has no transmitter on because I won't be getting it in the mail for another few weeks. She's not wed to the lure or even remotely fond of me. 

     I go out again on my bike later that day, when she will be hungrier. I check the most highly suspect areas. The locals are very accommodating and I'm allowed onto three promising properties. I check every tree, swinging the lure and laying the trap, but she it not there. I cross the rather large portion of land off my mental map. 

     Dad comes to collect me; we're going to my grandma's for dinner. 

     Bellatrix is staying out overnight.