"Falconry is not a hobby or an amusement: it is a rage. You eat it and drink it, sleep it and think it. You tremble to write of it, even in recollection. It is, as King James the First remarked, an extreme stirrer of passions." T.H. White

The Godstone and Blackymor, 1959 (First American Edition) Van Rees Press, New York, page 18.

Sunday, December 26, 2010

Dec 19 – Squirrel 12

Well it rained all day Saturday so there was no flight which was a bummer.  The family was okay with it since it made me take the time to make our traditional Christmas Candy.  Sunday morning found us all a little bigger around the middle and Maddox and I speeding to Columbia for ODP soccer tryouts.  After the tryouts, we sped home to try to beat the sunset and get Rebel out for a flight.

We barely made it.  As I was loading the truck, Laura pulled in and Brynn hopped in with us.  Addie joined Rebel in the back and we made it around the corner to Doc’s land.  This time we went to the back portion and set Rebel free. 

We traipsed around not seeing much of anything at first.  As daylight was fading I had decided to pull out the lure and call it a day, when Rebel took off like a shot down the road.  Maddox ran after and reported three squirrels in a tree in front of us.  Rebel chased them for a bit but the old live oaks on this property heavily favor the squirrels.  Once again, I was about to call Rebel down when he took off for the far corner of the lot near the plantation house.  I did not see the squirrel, but I was afraid she had seen a squirrel lurking on the edge of the swamp.

I ran over and heard some bells heading deper into the swamp.  Uh oh.  I pulled out the lure and started calling hoping to draw her out before dark and a successful hunt put her in the swamp for the night.  The bells stopped ringing and no Rebel was forthcoming.  Sigh.  Sure enough, my bird had a squirrel down in the swamp.  Not just at the edge or anything like that.  Nope.  He was fifty yards deep and trying not to make a sound.  Oh boy.  O had to use telemetry to locate his direction, and then with another sigh I set off.  Fortunately I was able to stay close enough to the Cyprus knees that I didn’t get much deeper than my ankles except for a few times.  I made my way through with fading light to see Rebel happily munching on squirrel number 12.  I didn’t have much choice in things, so I just reached down and picked up the squirrel and with the bird attached to the carcass, I headed back out of the swamp. 

I made it out to find that we had ourselves an audience.  Some neighbors had pulled up and they watched Rebel eat a little more squirrel until I could safely get him leashed.  Rebel was mad as hell at me.  I hate that I had to do things that way, and I know I have reinforced a competition for game with the bird, but it couldn’t be helped.  I cropped him up good at home so maybe he will forgive me.

On a good note, there was no footing.  I did not get the leash on until we were well out of the swamp.  Thank goodness he chose to hang onto the squirrel the entire way out.  I managed to get a french clip into one grommet by holding him aloft and reaching from behind his talons to get him clipped in.  Not the most secure way, but at night and with our circumstances, it was the best I could do until I could trade Rebel off and get him back to the mews. 

Well, it remainis to be seen what kind of bad behaviors I have started for the future.  I do not see how Rebel can't see this as me having directly taken his food from him.  I think I will spend some manning time over the holidays and see if I can't work on rebuilding basic trust before we hunt too hard.  It being the holidays, and work being what it is, we will have to see.

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