"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.

Friday, December 10, 2010

Dec. 8 - Unducky, Unlucky

Well today was another brisk but gorgeous day in South Carolina.  The sun was bright and the sky was clear.  Most importantly, I had finished up work in time to race home, gather my hawk, and speed out the door to try to get a few flights in before dark.  This was critical because I knew I would not be home during daylight hours for the following three days at least.

Rebel was looking pretty good at 41.8 oz today.  I have been keeping him (her? so confused...) a little fatter the last few days as it has been so cold at night, down to 20 degrees.  I know you folks from the frozen tundra of North Carolina consider that a summer temperature, but here in God's country, 20 degrees is arctic.  I actually put my bird in the house last night in the giant hood.  I know, I know...  I'm a softy and Red Tails can take much lower temperatures without difficulty, but it was windy and as cold as Rebel had gotten during his ice bath, well, I caved to impulse instead of reason.  After all, I like this bird and I don't want the little gender-confused dude to think like a retiree and hightail it to Florida first chance he gets.

So I brought Addie with us again and headed back to Harmony.  On the drive in, there was nary a duck on the pond and that was troubling.  The truth is, there is so much water at this place that the ducks can actually be anywhere.  We went to our usual spot and set off.  Addie was like a pig in mud.  Actually exactly like a pig in mud, minus the snout, as she got out of the car and immediately took a roll in the largest mud puddle in the field. 

Rebel took her perch and began to follow as we set out.  She was becoming more familiar with the area and she would fly ahead a bit which I was pleased with.  It is my goal to have her fly ahead into position in anticiaption of the flush, and it is looking like she is getting better at this.  I got really excited when, right as I was approaching the pond, she took a perchonthe perfect dead tree snag onthe edge of the lake.  Almost immediately, she took off in a dive over the lake.  I was pumped!  I was figuring that she had flushed the ducks herself and was giving chase or something.  I crashed through the brush to look and saw no ducks on the water or on the horizon.  Damn.  It was only seconds for me to get through, but I doubt that the ducks had already flushed.  I think it more likely that they were never there and that Rebel was just cruiding low over the water for a look.

We "discovered about eight  new lakes that evening in the area.  All empty.  I was led on by the haunting cry of a wood duck that always seemed to be jsut on the horizon, but never found them.  I was actually out there much longer than I should have been and the sun was going down.  Rebel had already caught one squirrel and let it go on the ground for some bizarre reason.  It was actually an amazing flight.  She had chased the guy into about ten dfifferent trees with me running and following beneath.  Addie was doing her bit helping keep the squirrel off of the ground as well.  Rebel manuevered ahead of the squirrel and when he turned out on a limb to reverse course, the squirrel slipped and started to fall.  Rebel swooped up and caught him as the squirrel grabbed a nearby branch. 

It was like slow motion.  The squirrel grabbed the branch above as Rebel grabbed him from below.  For a second, the squirrel was supporting both of them before he let go.  They started to fall to the ground and I watched Rebel try to shift his grip to the head as they came down.  I was psyched, thining number nine was in the bag.  I crashed through immediately worried that Addie would try to make in too close as Holly had done last week, but Addie kept a respectful distance.  When I got there, I was dismayed ot see that Rebel had let go of the squirrel who was climbing back up the tree.  The crappy thing was that Rebel would not give chase!  The damned thing was right there and moving okay butnot as fast as before, clearly wounded.  Rebel was just looking at me with that "Okay I got him, give me some food" look.  Not good.  I tried like hell to get the bird back inthe tree but Rebel had decided that if i wouldn't give a tifbit off of the glove, maybe I wanted to play jump up... 

I tried to think back as to when I had ever inadvertantly reinforced this type of behavior before.  There was one squirrel early on where the bird had chased hard and just missed a squirrel on the ground and I rewarded her for the hard flight.  In fact, after each of the last three dropped squirrels, Rebel had been tidbitted to the glove to get going again not too long after the event.  I guess had I put it into Rebel's head that the chase was enough.  Damn.  I hate finding out that I have been doing something wrong after the fact.  Well, somewhat wiser (but far from wise), I walked away with no positive reinforcement given.  Rebel reluctantly followed.  I am afraid that I am going to have a time breaking this behavior. Mr. Squirrel stayed safely hidden in the tree.  I hate thinking that I left an injured animal behind.

I once again heard the cry of a wood duck off to my left.  It was close to dark and I was in an area hat was completely new to me so I knew that I should head back before it got too dark to see.  Well, the Y-chromosome being what it is, chose that  moment to wake up and say "Yawn, you gonna let that wood duck sit there laughing at you without a chase?"  Into the darkening wookds we went.  On the way, Rebel got something up just in fornt of me.  Pretty sure it was a swamp rabbit but I didn't get a good look.  Rebel was sulking behind me, so he/she didn't see it either.  Regardless, Addie took off in pursuit.  We were right on the edge of our next slip where I was sure the damned wood duck was, so I got Rebel in position and I moved up the bank.  Nothing.  Nada.  Zip.

Sigh, well it was a pretty good day.  A pretty spectacular flight if a poor ending on a squirrrel and a beautiful sunset, it was time to pack it up and find our way out of the woods.  Problem.  Addie was gone.  When I say gone, I mean gone like our sense of fashion in the seventies or our sense of civility currently gone.  No sound, no nothing.  I called and called and my dog was nowhere to be found.  It did not take long for my brain to register the fact that I was on the verge of a crisis here.  Now please don't take this wrong.  I was very concerned for my dog.  I love that dog more than my own children at certain times, which includes most of their waking moments at present (sorry kids), but my sense of self preservation was kicking in and I realized a few things. 

The first was that if I did not return with the dog, I would not be welcomed back in the house.  I mentioned earlier that it is cold.  Rebel's jumpbox might be fine for a hawk, but I didn't relish the thought of sleeping in the mute covered sand underneath it that night.  The second was that I was pretty sure that not only would I be unwelcome at home, but also that I might even get shot as I knocked on the door.  Now my wife is not good with a gun.  She has resisted all of my attempts at teaching her gun safety and how to shoot.  I am pretty sure news of this kind would be the only thing that could motivate her to change this stance and she did have quite an arsenal in there from which to choose...  The third thing  I realized was that, given the first two, I wasn't going to get out of these woods before full dark and I better get used to the idea.

I decided that losing two friends was not going to be an acceptable option so I made my way back to the truck hollering for Addie the whole way.  I say hollering because it sounds more manly than screaming like a girl in a panicky voice, and I reserve the right of poetic license to reflect myself in this blog to be much cooler than I really am.  Fortunately the bird was quite responsive to all of the hollering and stayed right on top of me.  I wasn't sure where I was, but I managed to head in the right direction.  With Rebel in the hood, I decided to drive the truck deeper into the woods to look for Addie. 

So I am praying pretty hard at this point, making deals in my head and such.  Part of me is sure she is going to come bounding around the corner any minute and another part of me is saying it is better to lie down and die of exposure right here rather than go back and face my wife and kids.  I backed out and turned to make my way back closer to the last pond and...

Yup.  She rounded the corner looking particularly pleased with herself.  All dogs have a grin when thay want to show it, but labs have this goofy, tongue to the side thing that only they seem to be able to pull off.  I wanted to kill her.  Please see paragraphs above as to why I quickly decided not to do this.  Instead, I hugged her muddy, grinning, goofy self as she hopped into the back seat.  Crisis averted.  Do they make shock collars that only go off if the dog is more than thirty feet from the handler?  I am thinking I might modify one of those wireless invisible fences on my next outing.  Might be a little awkward to carry that tower thing on my back...  Okay maybe not a good idea.

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