NAFA Field Meet - Thursday
Today was Thanksgiving. I'd missed all the turkey meals with friends and family . . . and probably when I got back, everyone would be too tired of turkey to think of any more should I want some. But at least I wasn't cooking a turkey meal!!
I started the day off taking Rigel to one of the feed lots where they fatten up the cattle. It was indicated that there were many sparrows and starlings to try a small raptor at. And there were . . . but Rigel just doesn't understand that they are food. At one point I sat in my car, holding him on my fist, while some 30 or more sparrows moved across a large tractor sitting on the lot, just feet from where I was parked. He never moved. I then began to drive around some of the cattle pens, although what I was thinking, I'm not sure. If he had gone after something, and took it down over the pens, what was I to do then. Jump into the pens with all the cows?? Well, I didn't have to do that, but at one point he did break free of my grip, and flitted out the window. I then spent 10 tense minutes watching him happily fly over the cows, from pen to pen, not listening to me call him. Several times he went out of sight. Again, no telemetry or bells. But, like any good, small animal with a high metabolism, he decided after a bit that he really was hungry, and there was nothing to eat over the cow pens. He came back to me. I grabbed his jess and stuffed him in the box. No more free flying for the kestrel in Kansas. I wanted to bring him back to Wisconsin with me, to at least try to improve his behavior, and learn if I could make a falconry bird of him. Both of his outings had been met with potential disaster . . . so no more chances!
I returned to my room, and cleaned up for dinner. I then met Bill and Marcie, and their son Ian for Thanksgiving Dinner at the Golden Corral. OK, it was pretty good food, but no substitute for home cooked. It was cheaper than what the meet hotel was offering, but I do think before Christmas I might have to make my own turkey meal.
After dinner, we had all decided to go towards Ford County, a private location whose owner said we could jack hunt on his property. As a group, in two vehicles, we headed that way. When we got there, it was a very nice, open field, with a bit of scrubby, low vegetation in many spots. We carried both raptors, Bill with KC, and I with Pente, on the fist. KC was unhooded at first. We did kick up two jacks in that field as we moved into it, and one pheasant. KC made really good attempts at the jacks, but they are very fast, and at the end managed to elude her. At the far end of the field, there was a single tree, with grassy areas surrounding it. Bill suggested I try Pente in that area. I cast her off to the tree, and she did subsequently have two chances at cottontails, which she made a good effort for. On the second bunny it squealed, meaning she did contact with it, but she didn't hang onto it. She then went up the tree, and I had a terrible hard time trying to get her down. When she did come down, she was breathing very hard. This did not look good at all. We began to work back towards the middle of the field, with me holding her up over my head, in case we flushed any jacks. I can see now why a high perch would be a really useful thing to have. As we got to the middle of the field, however, Pente bated very hard, and then seemed to collapse on me. She wouldn't grip the glove, and just layed on the ground. I picked her up in my arms, which she never would allow me to do if she was OK. I felt terribly frantic. Bill suggested I take her back to the meet hall, and ask for some advice from one of the meet vets. He said there are usually two people who volunteer their services. Marcie was kind enough to drive back with me, and helped me be calm. I was terribly worried about my bird. It was over an hours drive.
Once back at the hall, I did manage to find a vet. He gave her a very quick look, felt her keel, and thought maybe she was a bit low. She would have been only 2 lbs. 12 oz, the weight I hawked her at the previous year. Either way, he advised feeding her rich meat, jack or quail or something, with lots of moisture, and letting her rest the next day. The NAFA president, Darryl Perkins, was on hand, and he kindly offered me quite a lot of jackrabbit meat. I gratefully accepted. I went back to my room, and made "soup" for Pente, and fed her up. She was done for the meet. Unfortunately, now I had no bird to fly. Well, at least my bird hadn't died, as quite a few other people did experience at the meet.
The evening speaker was a falconer from California, Joy Roy III. Quite a nice looking fellow, and a really nice presentation. This was the final night for vendor sales. I returned to my room to try to sleep, feeling restless and worried about Pente.
End Day Four.
I started the day off taking Rigel to one of the feed lots where they fatten up the cattle. It was indicated that there were many sparrows and starlings to try a small raptor at. And there were . . . but Rigel just doesn't understand that they are food. At one point I sat in my car, holding him on my fist, while some 30 or more sparrows moved across a large tractor sitting on the lot, just feet from where I was parked. He never moved. I then began to drive around some of the cattle pens, although what I was thinking, I'm not sure. If he had gone after something, and took it down over the pens, what was I to do then. Jump into the pens with all the cows?? Well, I didn't have to do that, but at one point he did break free of my grip, and flitted out the window. I then spent 10 tense minutes watching him happily fly over the cows, from pen to pen, not listening to me call him. Several times he went out of sight. Again, no telemetry or bells. But, like any good, small animal with a high metabolism, he decided after a bit that he really was hungry, and there was nothing to eat over the cow pens. He came back to me. I grabbed his jess and stuffed him in the box. No more free flying for the kestrel in Kansas. I wanted to bring him back to Wisconsin with me, to at least try to improve his behavior, and learn if I could make a falconry bird of him. Both of his outings had been met with potential disaster . . . so no more chances!
I returned to my room, and cleaned up for dinner. I then met Bill and Marcie, and their son Ian for Thanksgiving Dinner at the Golden Corral. OK, it was pretty good food, but no substitute for home cooked. It was cheaper than what the meet hotel was offering, but I do think before Christmas I might have to make my own turkey meal.
After dinner, we had all decided to go towards Ford County, a private location whose owner said we could jack hunt on his property. As a group, in two vehicles, we headed that way. When we got there, it was a very nice, open field, with a bit of scrubby, low vegetation in many spots. We carried both raptors, Bill with KC, and I with Pente, on the fist. KC was unhooded at first. We did kick up two jacks in that field as we moved into it, and one pheasant. KC made really good attempts at the jacks, but they are very fast, and at the end managed to elude her. At the far end of the field, there was a single tree, with grassy areas surrounding it. Bill suggested I try Pente in that area. I cast her off to the tree, and she did subsequently have two chances at cottontails, which she made a good effort for. On the second bunny it squealed, meaning she did contact with it, but she didn't hang onto it. She then went up the tree, and I had a terrible hard time trying to get her down. When she did come down, she was breathing very hard. This did not look good at all. We began to work back towards the middle of the field, with me holding her up over my head, in case we flushed any jacks. I can see now why a high perch would be a really useful thing to have. As we got to the middle of the field, however, Pente bated very hard, and then seemed to collapse on me. She wouldn't grip the glove, and just layed on the ground. I picked her up in my arms, which she never would allow me to do if she was OK. I felt terribly frantic. Bill suggested I take her back to the meet hall, and ask for some advice from one of the meet vets. He said there are usually two people who volunteer their services. Marcie was kind enough to drive back with me, and helped me be calm. I was terribly worried about my bird. It was over an hours drive.
Once back at the hall, I did manage to find a vet. He gave her a very quick look, felt her keel, and thought maybe she was a bit low. She would have been only 2 lbs. 12 oz, the weight I hawked her at the previous year. Either way, he advised feeding her rich meat, jack or quail or something, with lots of moisture, and letting her rest the next day. The NAFA president, Darryl Perkins, was on hand, and he kindly offered me quite a lot of jackrabbit meat. I gratefully accepted. I went back to my room, and made "soup" for Pente, and fed her up. She was done for the meet. Unfortunately, now I had no bird to fly. Well, at least my bird hadn't died, as quite a few other people did experience at the meet.
The evening speaker was a falconer from California, Joy Roy III. Quite a nice looking fellow, and a really nice presentation. This was the final night for vendor sales. I returned to my room to try to sleep, feeling restless and worried about Pente.
End Day Four.
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