Great Leaps

It's amazing how you can be moving along with training, and feel you really are not making any progress, and finally, your bird 'gets it', and you make a great leap . . . literally.

I had succeeded last week in getting Abby to take food from off the fist, and probably rewarded her just a little too much. Her weight went up way too high. It has been a slow shave down since then. She is being kept in her mews day and night now, and seems comfortable in there. I am able to come in and take her off the shelf perch, and she does not try to get away now. The cold of late helps to bring her weight down, although without any exercise, she's not burning the calories too quickly. Over the last couple days I have noticed a subtle difference in her attitude. She doesn't seem frightened anymore, and seems to be paying a little closer attention to me. But I still hadn't reached the critical weight to motivate her to move her feet. Until tonight.

What a wonderful wrap up to the evening, after a somewhat frustrating day at work. Without going into unnecessary detail, I had to stay 2+ hours of overtime to work on a project. However, my husband had fed all the dogs and cats, and even had our dinner ready when I got home. I ate, and was able to get to working my hawk right away . . . after spending a few minutes looking through my American Falconry magazine, which just came in. For you falconry folks . . . the humorous article at the end, about hooding, particularly tickled me as I am currently dealing with training a hawk to the hood. She has either gotten worse at dodging me, or I've gotten better and quicker at getting the hood on her head. She still doesn't like it, but it can be done rather painlessly now, and with minimal fuss from the hawk. Given time, she'll accept it better.

Anyway, I set everything up, unhooded the hawk, and presented the tidbit on the fist, just out of reach. She studied it for a bit, as she has the last couple days, then started looking away, no, not really interested, and then with one last look around, as if she were going to bate away, she jumped to my fist and took the tidbit. I guess she just wanted to make sure nothing was going to come at her from somewhere in the room when she made her move. I returned her to the perch, to do it again, just in case. Yes, she jumped right over again. We finished up the small selection of tidbits I had on hand. I hooded her and left her in the livingroom, as I prepared another mouse. No, her behavior is definitely not a fluke. Each presentation, she came to the fist for the tidbit, as I held my arm higher and higher. For such progress, I let her have the whole mouse. She was put out into her mews shortly thereafter, with a nice warm feel in the crop.

Now we can start making real progress.

Bedroom Falconry

I feel I should share something that just happened. I find it to be quite amusing actually.

I just returned home, and while settling in, and starting to feed all the beasties before I make dinner for us, I went to feed Rigel.

I haven’t spoken much about Rigel in this blog for awhile. I feel as though I failed the little guy. I never did trap any sparrows or starlings, so did not get him on game. My plan has been to just take care of him through the winter, and then release him in spring.

Well, I brought his dinner up to him. A fresh mouse. I'll just let him kill it himself. I kill enough mice around her for hawks, and also when I do work with Rigel, and get him to fly to my fist. He can help me with the task once in awhile. Well, I dangled the mouse for him, and he flew up and grabbed it, and fell to the floor, and proceeded to tumble with the mouse. And then the mouse got free. I was able to grab it, and tossed it back at Rigel, but he missed it again, as he was tethered. By this time the little domestic mouse knew it was in trouble, and it ran for it . . . across the room, and under the bed.

GREAT!! I already have plenty of wild mice in my house. I don’t need any domestic ones also wandering around. I began looking and moving boxes, and saw the mouse run again and again. Well, OK. It’s pretty dumb. Doesn’t know to really get away, the way a wild mouse would. But it was too fast for me. However, I knew it wouldn’t be too fast for a kestrel. Rigel was small, and he could dive right under the bed. So, I took him off his tether, and we did a little bedroom falconry.

I was laughing to myself! I managed to move the mouse around a time or two, and when Rigel saw what I was doing, he then started working with me. Well . . . maybe I’ll make a falconry bird out of this little guy yet! At one point I was on one side of the bed, poking the contents underneath, as I knew the mouse was there. Rigel was waiting on the other side. The mouse ran, and Rigel made a mad dash for it. But missed. However, a few minutes later, I flushed it again, and this time Rigel was able to corner it. Dinnertime!

So, game count for Rigel . . . one domestic mouse, free ranging!

This gives me ideas. Maybe I shouldn’t give up on the little falcon. Maybe I should search out some fields where I might find some mice. Hey . . . it’s not rabbits, or pheasant, or quail . . . but it is hunting with a trained raptor!

And that is what Falconry is all about!

Slow Progress . . . But Progress!

I’m beginning to think that it is very good for a fairly new person to falconry to work with a new bird every year. This is because each bird is different, and training them challenges the falconer to use that resource which they supposedly possess in greater measure than the subject of the training . . . their brains! This is probably how we get all the inventive and creative ways to train birds proposed in falconry publications and books. People try different things, and sometimes they work.

I have been a week with Abby, and she has barely progressed beyond the first basic lessons. I believe this is because she still terribly fears me. It is up to me to find ways to remove this fear. An e-mail from Bill Oakes encouraged me, and for now, I have decided to eliminate hooding her. For now. Any progress we are making during each manning session is being lost at the end of the session when I try to hood her. She is returned to her box with the unpleasantness of our final contact, and that surely cannot be good for building trust with her.

Yesterday I was finally able to convince her to take a tidbit from my fingers, by herself. Granted, she only had to stretch her neck a very short distance to do it, and still wants to bite me . . . and has a few times, but she did it by choice. This morning I removed her from her box, in very subdued lighting, only enough for myself to barely see, to prevent a bate while removing her from the box. She’s being kept in my utility room, where it is cool. Not as cold as outside (which right now is very cold) but not warm either. Her weight has been dropping slowly, as she’s not been getting too much to eat. We had a short session in the living room. I had very freshly cut up mouse parts . . . nice and bloody (um . . . ick!) Abby hesitated just a little, but she’s getting hungry now. She took the tidbit from my fingers, and all the rest of it, slowly increasing the distance, moving them towards the glove. At the end of the session, I returned her to the box, again in subdued lighting, to prevent any bates. To my mind, she was rewarded for her behavior, of accepting food from me, without any unpleasantness in the session. I feel this is progress.

Tonight I’ll do some final touch-ups on my mews, and place her in there. She needs to begin to get used to living in there. And the incredible coldness of late will only help in the training, as it will make her burn her calories faster, focusing her attention towards me as her source of food.

Slow Progress . . . but Progress Nonetheless!

A Closeup of Abby 

Training Begins . . . and a Naming

Today is Tuesday, day two of training. So far, my new bird has only accomplished the very first, basic lesson, that of learning to take the glove, and regain to it after a bate. She is working through her fears, and slowly, as time goes on, will become less and less afraid of me. This is called "manning", and it is the first necessary step. She has taken just a couple of little tidbits, but I think this was mostly because they were by her beak, and annoyed her enough that she bit at them.

I had some help in this first step by Dave Noble. He and his wife, Linda, came by for a visit yesterday, and he helped the hawk to learn this first step. As we worked with her, and visited, we were cracking jokes, and tossing around naming possibilities. She was trapped in the Bloomington - Normal, Illinois area. Someone suggested "Bloomie", or something like that. Then, I think it was my husband who said "Abby-Normal" (making a joke from the movie Young Frankenstein). I thought about it, and decided that the name Abby actually would be a good enough name. So, unless I change my mind, her name will be 'Abby'.

A very happy Lady Hawker, with a new, Illinois hawk! 

Mark Snyder, and his hunting hawk, One 

Hawk Stalking

I drove down to Illinois on Friday evening, and stayed with my sister and her family. I didn't see too much of them, but it was nice of them to let me crash at their house. I was up early, out the door, and drove to the Bloomington-Normal, Illinois Holiday Inn. The Illinois falconry club was having a meet that day, and it was a good place to meet up with Mark, as it was a half-way point between his home, and my sister's home.

We then began the day, "Hawk Stalking" as my girlfriend calls it. And it was a tough day to stalk! Illinois had also suffered from the winter storm that went through Wisconsin in the previous few days, and all the trees . . . and I do mean ALL of them, were covered with a thick layer of ice, and then some with snow too. Now normally, in the winter, it is really easy to spot red-tailed hawks in trees, because they have white bellies. But, the ice made all the trees look white, so it was not an easy day. On top of that, at one point, I had Mark drive down a snowy road, thinking to get a better look at a tree line, but instead, while trying to turn around, we got stuck. He tried very hard to get his truck free, and we even cut some brush (he cut) and stuffed them under the tires (I stuffed) but it did no good. We ended up walking, looking for help. Fortunately, we did find two groups of people not too far away who had pity on us, and helped us out.

In the middle of the day we also took a break, and hunted Mark's bird, "One". Yeah . . . not a very original name! But it was the first bird he trapped last year, and turned out to be the "one" that he needed, wanted, and kept. She's been doing pretty good, catching bunnies . . . and there are a lot of them in Illinois. We hunted a field that was just loaded with them. We worked the field down, and then up over a railroad track. I walked the track, while Mark went down the other side. As I walked, I flushed a bunny down in the brush, and as it ran back along the hill by the track, up the hill, One came crashing down, and caught it. I was placed in a good location to see the whole thing. Very nice! One trades off her bunnies very nicely . . . but that's because she has a good falconer working her. Nice Job Mark!

We then continued 'Hawk Stalking'. We only saw one immy this day. All other hawks were haggards (adults) or rough-legs. We probably passed a lot of hawks, you just couldn't see them. The one immy hawk we did see was hanging out in an industrial area, at the margin of the town. She did show quite a lot of interest in the various traps we set out for her, but never landed and really worked them. We came back by the area late that afternoon, to see if we could spot her before it got dark. At the last moment, when we were about to give up, I spotted her. If she was settled in for the night, I knew where to find her the next day. So we called it a day, went back by the hotel, didn't see anyone, and I then transferred all my junk back to my car, and said good night to Mark. It was very nice of him to drive me around all day. I had plans to return in the AM and try for the immy hawk . . . and if not successful, go drive around with Mark some more, but this time nearer his home, as he knew that area better.

I returned to my sister's home, and we all went out for really good pizza, Chicago Style. It was a very nice dinner with them all . . . but when we returned to their home, I checked out pretty quick. Again, not getting a lot of sleep. Falconry, of late, had been very bad for my health! Not enough rest . . . and moody! I set my alarm, planning to be back in Normal at dawn.

I was awake on Sunday at 3:30. I couldn't sleep! I went ahead and got up, got myself ready, and loaded all my junk into the car. I left about 4:45, and was at the location of sleeping hawk at around 5:40 or so. I baited, reset all nooses, and set two traps, away from the road, but near enough to the trees where the target bird was last seen, but not so near that I would disturb her. I then backed off, and waited. Dawn came. I looked the target trees over with my binoculars, but I never did spot her. If she was there, she was well hidden. I decided that since I was set up, I'd just wait, and maybe when she woke up, even if not in the area, she might canvas her area, looking for breakfast. I didn't have to wait long.

A wing flash gave her away. And she went for my cone trap, which I set up under a bush, with 2 black mice. I saw her fly to the spot, and pulled out to get a closer look, as it was situated just beyond a little hill. As I approached, I watched her. She had landed by the trap, and was looking the situation over. She footed the trap, and again. She began to struggle . . . and I lept into action. I drove the rest of the way up the hill, stopped and parked the car, emergency lights on, grab gloves, and make a mad dash towards her. This girl did not get away . . . no, not this time! I had her! A new bird . . . but of course, terrified out of her mind! And I, was not so stable myself. This would be my first time handling a hawk on trap, all by myself. I approached her with gloves on both hands. Dave had always gone empty handed, but he had much more experience here than I. I didn't want to risk getting footed, and I wanted to grab her as quickly as I could. Once I had her, my heart started beating again, and I was able to breath. Now I could slow down.

I returned to the car, and very carefully slipped her nooses off, all the while holding onto her tightly. She had been caught by two of them, locked on the fat tips of her toes. I then taped her legs together, and taped the feet up. I had previously ripped off several long strips of tape, to be ready. Carefully work the panty hose "casting jacket" over her, and then a hood over her head. She was immobilized. Situate her for the ride, pick up the traps, park, and call everyone. Well, maybe not everyone. It was still only 7:00 on a Sunday morning. But I did call my husband first, to announce the good news, and then Mark, to let him know I would come visit with the new hawk. He could help me out with her.

The drive to Mark's home town is not very exciting! It is a lot of very flat land, a lot like Kansas! Once there, though, he gave me the full tour of his home, and more importantly, his mews. OH MY!! He has the most wonderful mews I've ever seen. One is certainly a very lucky hawk. It is quite roomy, and she is free lofted. She has a large window, with appropriate bars, but also a sunroof as well. She has a very nice block perch, and a safe high corner perch, and a large window perch where she can watch all the cats in the neighbor's yard walk by. Electricity is professionally installed.

Mark offered me coffee, and we went through the process of jessing up my new bird, and doing the first initial training on her . . . trying to get her onto the fist. It went well enough.

She weighed in at 46 ounces. Mark indicated most likely an average female. But she had no crop on her, and is also not overly fat. She's been feeding herself pretty well, lean, but making it in the winter. We know that where she was has adult hawks in the area, as we saw them, but she seems to have carved out a little territory for herself. She is, most likely, one of the 20% that make it. That is, until I came along with my trap. Now, if all goes well, she'll definitely make it, because I'll be able to give her a bit more practice time, and with a safety net in place. She'll not starve under my care.

I then packed her up, said good bye to Mark, and headed home. It's been a very busy weekend. But, now I have a new hunting partner. I did work with her just a little when I came home, and she seems to be coming out of her shock a little. She just bated a lot, and hung at the end of her jesses. Thus starts all the new processes to make a hunting hawk.

The next few weeks are going to be busy! But worth it! Definitely worth it!

A Door Closes . . . A Door Opens

Upon returning from our vacation I applied myself to trying to trap a new hawk here in Wisconsin. On Thursday, December 30th I did not have too much time, as I did have to sleep in just a little to recover from our trip. But I did get out some, and drove all around my area, working my way eventually to the La Crosse area. I tried a couple times for an immy that Dave had been trying to trap all the previous week, and had caught, once, but it got away from the trap . . . leaving with a lesson about traps. I couldn't convince it to come to my traps, and it also tended to hang out on poles in a very busy intersection, so not very safe to try to trap.

On the last day of 2004 I met Bill Oakes down at the pheasant farm in Janesville. We were there very early, and went into the place as it opened. They said we could trap until noon. So we spent the day, each of us driving around in separate vehicles, looking for hawks. We both set some traps on top of the pheasant pens. Near the end of the day, an immy did go for Bill's trap, and was caught, but as we approached, she yanked so hard to get away, she stripped the wire of the noose right out of the connectors used to lock the nooses to the trap. One of my traps was knocked off, so something hit it, but didn't stay trapped. We left at noon empty handed. I took the slow route back to Madison, and eventually home. Not too many hawks, and what I did see were mature.

I had to return home, as we were meeting friends for dinner, and then had a small party planned for New Years. I was disconsolate the whole evening, and actually, rather exhausted . . . I had not been getting enough sleep. The window for trapping in Wisconsin was now closed, and I was resigning myself to the idea that I would be hawkless until next September. Close the door!


The following week I received an e-mail from Dave, forwarding a message from one of his brothers. There was a falconer in Illinois looking for someone to care for his ferruginous hawk for a couple of months, due to an injury (to the falconer, not the hawk). I contacted him, and whereas I was not a suitable person to take on the care of such a large and aggresive hawk, he did give me a little information which turned out to be most helpful. He informed me that Illinois has an open trap season up until January 31, and gave me the name of the contact person. Well . . . here was a new window of opportunity.

I called on Tuesday, got the man in Illinois with the Department of Natural Resources, and had him fax me the application. The next day I overnight mailed my application, with payment, with a return envelope. Everything went smoothly, and on Friday afternoon, I had an Illinois permit. Dave had referred me to his hawking buddy in Illinois, Mark Snyder, who was willing to take me driving around the area over the weekend, looking for hawks.

A new door had opened!