A little sunrise for you.

Today is the last day of open duck season for four days. It will open again on Dec 2nd so I wanted to fly Jessie again and gorge her on duck if she killed.  ( Federal regulations only allow 107 days to hunt ducks, so to extend the season, they first have to save a few days in the middle of the season to do so. ) Peg is still heavy from all the rabbit that I gave her from her last kill, and the wind came up pretty strong, so I decided to not fly her until tomorrow. Hopefully the wind will die down, as Harris Hawks are at a serious disadvantage when it is windy. The Jacks always run into the wind and up a hill, if there is one available. There is no such thing as a dumb bunny at this time of the year.

I decided from my last excursion at the Lake across the road, that the ducks sit on it in the middle of the day to rest and leave to go down the ditches to feed in the evening. Since it was windy enough that I didn't really want to fly the plane over there, I decided to try to find a way to see if there were ducks before I turned Jess loose. Good plan, tough to implement. The rascals spot you when your head tops the hill, so I decided to go around at a different angle and oblique to the lake. I managed to get to a spot that I could begin to see the Lake, and I could see some Coots, but those are worthless. Dynamite wouldn't get them to fly, they only dive. I kept walking step by step exposing more and more of the water. I was about 100 yards off and I finally saw two Swans sitting on the bank, but couldn't see any ducks. I was convinced that there had to be ducks on the water, so I worked my way below the Lake and the level of the dam. I got  right up to the spill way and still couldn't see anything other than Grebes. I decided to go on around the dam and try to get a look at the end nearest the reeds. I was sure that if there were ducks there they would be in the shelter of the dam from the wind. I got about halfway around and decided to gently take a look. Yeah right! I didn't even get my eyes up over the dam before a flock of about 15 Mallards rose from the water and left me to my despair.

I walked back to the truck and we trundled off to Appendix Point to see if any ducks had decided to land there. If you remember the last time I went, it was empty, so I didn't have much hope.

After a bumpy 10 mile ride, I peered over the dam to see ducks in the open water at the far end of the pond. With soaring spirits and a "Thank You", I hustled back to the truck to get Jessie. Karen and I made our plan and I turned Jessie loose while I made my way up on the cliff top to flush. Karen and the dogs were to stay on the road until I flushed. With all the wind funneling down through the draw that the pond is located in, Jessie didn't pick up much pitch even though she had plenty of time to do so. I waited until she was down wind of the ducks and flushed them out the end of the pond. She came down through the flock and grabbed a Drake Mallard and took him to the ground at the end of the pond. Karen and the dogs were closer so they went to keep her safe until I could get there. A drake Mallard weighs more than she does, and they put up a pretty good fight, Karen helped her without incident.

Karen got the truck while Jessie was finishing eating. Since it will be four days until I can hunt her again, I gave her all she could eat while we were traveling back to the house. When we arrived I gave her the liver, and she could barely choke it down. I tied her to her perch in the weathering yard. She promptly took a bath even though the wind is howling, so after she finished, I picked her up and put her in the shop on her perch and turned the heater on for her to dry.

Thanksgiving

Peg is still pretty heavy, but Jessie is down to weight and ready to fly. The ponds at Arock are closing up fast, and I didn't want to go there, so I decided that if the weather cooperated I would roll out Dart (the plane) and check the Lake next door and Appendix point if that was empty.

At 12 noon the wind had abated and the temps were up to 39, so I got dressed and rolled out Dart. There were lots of Ducks in the ditches, and glory be, a bunch on the Lake. So I went back home with only a little flying around for fun.

At 1:45 PM I started getting ready to go. I got out Jessie's portion to feed her if she killed, got the dogs and started the truck. I went in, picked up Jessie and found that her weight was 850 grams. I put her in the truck and went back in the house to get my billfold. I had laid the pigeon breast and wing on the counter when I put my vest on. I forgot to pick it up then. Karen had picked up the meat and placed it in a different spot. We headed out for the bumpy drive to the access point for the Lake. We had climbed the fence and I was unsnapping Jessie when I realized that I hadn't picked up the meat. :-/  I was not about to turn her loose and take the chance that in the hour and a half since I had been there that the ducks might have moved. So we reluctantly loaded back up and went to the house to get her food.

We went back to the Lake to start over again. I unsnapped her and she was off after a short period to look around to see where we were. She was flying strongly and taking a good pitch as she always does here at the Lake. I was just about ready to make the flush when she faltered in flight. Something was definitely wrong, her left wing was in a different attitude than the other one. She wobbled, then straightened and then began a long glide to the ground. For a minute I thought she was going to crash, but she landed in the sage with no problem. Apparently something was wrong with her transmitter harness on her back, although I cannot fathom what. I went down there to see if I needed to pick her up. She got off the ground and flew to a fence post. I walked over to her, but she was not about to let me pick her up. She flew off again, and I walked back up towards the top of the hill. She appeared to have solved the problem and was still interested in hunting.

She picked up her pitch again as though nothing had happened, and took a place over the lake. I walked up to the edge where I could see and there was nothing to be seen. All at once she began a steep dive at some flushing ducks in the ditch that comes out of the Lake. She smacked one a terrific blow that threw a spout of water high enough that we could see it beyond the trees. She looked back, but continued on flying, knowing that with it in the water it was lost to her. I looked back to the Lake and there were two Ringneck Ducks and a Swan on the Lake. I kept moving toward them, and they lost their nerve and flushed out the other end. Jessie smacked one of the ducks with a blow that could be heard 100 yards away, made a quick turn around and flew down behind the reeds. Betsy ran down to check on her and stay with her until I could get there. She stayed with us while Curly spent the time rooting around in the swamp and the reeds looking for more ducks.

 

I picked her up after she had fed for a while, gathered Curly and headed back to the truck. Karen was really pleased with his appearance, threatening to make him ride in the back on the way home.

When we got home I gave Jess a chance at a bath as she was blood from one end to the other. Curly got "water boarded" until he was reasonably clean. Karen turned him loose and he promptly rolled in the gravel of the Ranch yard. That earned him another hosing down and being drug to the grass of the lawn, where he could roll to his hearts content.

Jess took her bath, and by that time our Turkey dinner was done. We had a lot to be thankful for, and I hope that your day was as good as ours.

Time to catch up.

I have been a bit remiss, primarily because I have been very irritated with myself. Up until I was 34 or so, I used to do things that when asked later, my answer was "It seemed like a good idea at the time". Unfortunately I am apparently in my second childhood, since I seem to be going down that road again.

It started after I fed Jessie on the fist because the weather was too bad to fly. The weather here lately has been pretty bad with the wind really howling. She was down to weight and had to be fed, so I gave her a half pigeon breast with the wing attached. I set her on her perch to finish her meal. When I went back into the shop, I found that she had stashed the wing. For some reason I decided to take it so that it would not be in her crop the next day, as I intended to fly her. I reached down to take it, and she jumped down to grab it. Instead of letting it go, I pulled it away. She jumped back up on the perch, but the damage was done, the seed planted. All the careful handling that I had done so far was in effect wasted.

On the 18th the weather finally cleared and the wind stopped. We loaded up both birds and went to Arock. The pond by the Hwy had Ducks on it, so I made my way into position. For whatever reason Jessie has never flown high on this pond, and until this year had never killed anything on it. It is a fairly big pond and for whatever reason has no rocks for ammo at all around it. Anyway, when she was in position I stepped up on the top of the dam and the ducks flushed. They turned before clearing the water, but she altered her flight and dipped low scooping up a Widgeon and carrying him over the dam to the ground below. Not very stylish, but effective.

I had been up until this time been able to help her in dispatching the victims, but this day she kept warning me that she was not going to tolerate me messing with her food. I of course kept trying. I cannot say why, but "It seemed like a good idea at the time". I touched the ducks wing, Jessie left the duck and grabbed my right hand with both feet. The duck tried to scramble away. In reflex I grabbed it, Jessie grabbed my left hand, I shoved the duck in her face, she grabbed my right hand again, then the dirty broad also reached down with her beak to take a bite out of me. I had to grab her around the wings and tail and pull her off my hand. I then stuck the duck in her face and backed off.

I sat and fumed for a while, but I had to admit that it was self inflicted, and the culprit and asshole was me. I knew that the duck was a recent arrival and was fat as a butter ball. For some reason that I cannot explain, I was worried that she would eat enough that she wouldn't fly again for 3 or 4 days. I keep asking myself why that would matter, but haven't come up with a good reason as of yet. All I can come up with is that the ponds are slowly freezing over and my hawking days are now numbered.  Remember - "The hurrieder I go, the behinder I get". Or in the immortal words of Pogo- "We have met the enemy and he is us".

I bled like a stuck pig, and the only way I could get the blood to stop was to rub dirt in it. I imagine my mother would have been aghast, but I have always been blessed with a remarkable ability to resist infection. We went on to hunt Peg, and while she tried, she managed to screw every thing up and wasn't able to do any good at all. She was actually about 2 ounces heavier than I had ever flown her.

The weather turned to crap again with winds up to 50 mph for two days straight. After the wind died, I decided that I didn't want to take Jessie to Arock because of the last incident and I wanted to fly her somewhere she normally flew higher. I decided to take her to Appendix Point since I had not been there for a long time. We took Peg to Arock and tried to catch a  Jack there. she pulled hair on one Jack, and caught another by the butt, she wasn't able to hold it long enough for me to get there to help her. We got back to the house and picked up Jessie to go to Appendix Point. We got there after a 10 mile drive over some BLM abused roads at speeds that were just below Karen's breaking point. There were no ducks on the pond. We raced back to check the Lake at the ranch. I managed to sneak up on the Lake to check, but there were no ducks there either. I fed her a duck leg to hold her weight steady in case we could fly the next day. When I got up the next morning the wind was howling again with a forecast of more of the same for the entire day. Karen had a Doctor's appointment the next day in Boise, so I gave up and fed both hawks a full crop.

Today the weather was good, and Jessie was at a suitable weight. Peg however was a bit fat, but I thought we would take her along and fly her last since she wasn't likely to do that much. We found some ducks on the Hwy pond at Arock, so I made my approach, releasing Jessie below the dam. When she got as high as she would go, I stepped to the top of the dam.  To my surprise, I found that most of the pond was frozen over with just a small open spot on the far side of the pond. I yelled as loud as I could and the ducks flushed, but of course she was low enough that they were still over the water when she started her stoop. They landed back on the small part of the pond that was still open and Jessie climbed back up. I stood there for a bit trying to decide what would be the best way to get them off the water. They apparently got nervous and thought she was far enough away that they could make their escape. She started after them and as they came close to my side of the pond, they began to turn back. I yelled and waved my arms, finally convincing them to leave. Jessie swooped through the flock and grabbed a Gadwall by the wing, sailing over the dam to the ground below. This time I stood and watched her after taking her picture. I called Karen on the radio to inform her that she had a duck, but she was almost to our position, so we sat on the bank and watched Jessie pluck her duck. When she had eaten the neck and was starting on the main body, I stepped up with half of a pigeon breast with all the feathers and the wing attached, and she stepped on the fist as nicely as could be. I fed her enough Pigeon and duck to give her a full crop, then hooded her.

 

Now it was Peg's turn, so we drove to a spot a bit further out than we had hunted before. The area belongs to an old Basque Rancher and it is comprised of medium sized Sage and Lava lumps and covers about one by four miles of prime rabbit country. Jorden Creek cuts through it. The Eagles are moving in and there were four Golden's apparently watching a fifth one eat a Jack that it had caught. We drove on in and pushed them out of the area. Thankfully they moved out leaving the Sage to us. Karen and I were both relieved. There is a resident pair with an apparent young of the year that live and hunt there. This is the first time that I have seen more than the three. When the migration hits its full stride there will be both Bald and Golden's in numbers that are quite impressive not to mention daunting.  While we were driving counting Eagles sitting on the various rock outcroppings one of the counted ones turned into a Coyote and disappeared over the ridge.

I had not expected Peg to try very hard at the weight that she was carrying, but she surprised me and was doing her best. I decided that I would make a big circle and was counting the number of times that she tried and missed. When we got to ten I would quit. One of the earlier ones that she chased went towards Karen. They were jumping, crashing and dodging around a piece of Sage about 5 feet in front of her. It all happened so fast that Karen appeared to be moving in slow motion in her attempt to distract the Jack long enough that Peg could connect. The Jack managed to keep his head and made his escape leaving both Karen and Peg breathless and disappointed.

Flight number eight turned out to be one of those rascally Bunnies, and Peg was pressing him hard. He had no choice but to dodge into the first available hole that he came to. Under normal circumstances he would have been OK, but he hadn't counted on this hawk having a pardner. Lava by its nature takes many strange shapes and forms. Some have formed bubbles that have hardened and are hollow. The one this poor Bunny had dodged into was about three feet long with a Bunny sized hole running the length of it. Unfortunately for the Bunny, the back part of it had been broken and was missing. So the Bunny in essence had run into a very short tube. Peg was in it head first as far as she could force her way in. I am sure she could see the Bunny and she was frustrated.  Of course I went to the other end and forced the Bunny out and into the talons of a very happy hawk. We took some pictures and I tied her to the Tee perch leaving her in Karen's keeping while I went back to the truck and brought it back to their location. We let her eat all she wanted.

All in all it was a pretty good day. It is not every day that both my birds score.  

Nov 15th.

It was a bit cool last night, dropping down to 18 this morning, so I waited a bit before putting the birds out to weather. Jessie is fine, but I generally wait until either 10 AM or it warms up a bit for poor ole Peggy. The sky was clear and there was no noticeable wind. All of the snow had melted off.

At 2 PM I got restless and bored enough to go hunting. Actually an hour or so later would be better as far as the wildlife goes, but I can only stand so much.

If you remember I told you about Curly's eyes. I am probably going to try taking one of the dogs the next time as the Jacks are beginning to hide from us, and a dog would be a help.

Once we got to the field and started walking, we were seeing very few Jacks. Peg had a couple of chases but missed, then we walked for quite a while without seeing any Jacks at all. We got into a rocky area that we have actually had quite a bit of success mostly with Sylvester. I am not sure if the rocky footing makes it harder for the Jacks to dodge, but it makes sense. We were still not seeing anything, and I had stopped to allow Karen to catch up. ( Try as hard as I can, I still walk too fast) While we were there waiting, Peg takes off as though she is flying to Karen, but keeps going and slams into the ground, followed by the scream of a Jack Rabbit. It couldn't have been much more than 10 feet in front of Karen. She did what comes naturally and grabbed the Jack by the back legs to secure him.

Peg had him by the left front leg, keeping him from getting onto his feet. She was pretty wrapped up in the bush, but she wasn't letting go.

 

I dispatched the Rabbit and gave her a front leg to eat while I cleaned the Jack. I kept the liver and the head. When she finished the leg I gave her the liver and we started back to the truck. She had managed to catch one on her third flight and we had been in the field less than an hour. Now that is the way it should be. I gave her the head to chew on while we were driving home. This will be her 12th head of game. She has impressed me the last three times that she has flown, and I am not easily impressed. 

Nov 14th

Things are back to as normal as it ever gets around here. We did have a skiff of snow last night. and the temps were down to 25. Not too bad really. At Burns, 100 miles north, it was 2 degrees. The wind however was doing a pretty good job of making it miserable outside. Peg was down to weight, but from what I learned the other day, it takes a bit for the rabbits to get acclimated, so I decided to wait for the better weather that is forecast for tomorrow for her flights. Jessie however was a different story, wind doesn't bother her and she is much better able to handle the cooler temps. She was also pretty insistent about going hunting. Her weight was 860 grams, which is good for the muscle that she is carrying and the temps that we are having. So after I picked Jess up, I tossed Peg a duck leg to hold her over until tomorrow.

We rarely get very much snow here, lots of wind, but in the three winters that we have been here a big snow is 4 inches. It generally doesn't stay any longer than a couple of weeks. Average rainfall here is 4 to 5 inches. Snow is good, but the water in the ponds freezing is not.

Betsy and Curly were both begging to go with us. Curly looks at you with those soulful eyes of his and puts his chin on Karen's legs obviously begging to be allowed to go with us for once. I haven't been taking them when I am hunting Peg, as the last time I took Curly, he ended up crippled for about three weeks. He just over does, and he is getting to be about 9 years old. Brittneys generally do not live much past 11 years. He doesn't look it, but he is an old man. Karen and I put Betsy's vest on her, so both knew that they were going to get to go. I loaded up the truck with dogs and Jessie and we trundled off to the Lake over at the ranch next door with Betsy whining and fogging up the windshield. The dogs are really a plus when it comes to flying Ducks. Curly will swim for all he is worth to find and flush ducks. Betsy hasn't been too much of a plus since she gets so excited, but she goes with the bird and the ducks where ever they are. They always go on point when I take the hood off Jessie, and hold it until she flies. Betsy runs with Jess, and Curly comes to me.

I have been doing some thinking about Jessie's "problem" over the past two or three weeks, and noticed a few days ago that she has some contusions on her right foot. No swelling, but perhaps it might give a bit of insight to her recent state of mind. I of course forced her to overcome what ever reservations that she might have had, by refusing to feed her until she killed something.

I turned her loose at the fence with the idea that if she decided to sit, then I wouldn't have to stand around waiting for her to fly. There is no reason to worry about her running out of gas at this date. She should be in great shape and able to fly hard for 30 minutes or more. If I have a fault as a falconer it is my patience. When the bird gets high enough to handle the  ducks on the pond, I will generally flush. If I could only wait, the falcon would go higher. pobody is nerfect however, even me, I just do the best I can.

By the time that we got to where we could see the Lake, her pitch was about 350 to 400 feet, perhaps more, but definitely high enough to handle this water. At first I couldn't see any ducks, so we kept walking and finally to my relief a couple of Gadwalls swam out of the reeds. Jessie was high enough that I doubt that they even knew she was up there. They flushed out the end and started back towards the main ranch. Jessie dropped lower than the duck and knocked or tipped it into the ground. It got up again and she used the height from her "throw up" to smack him into the ground again. She did a quick circle and landed on what I assumed was the duck. I saw Betsy get there about the same time that she landed on the ground. She was running around Jessie and the Duck (I thought) and I was both glad and relieved, as she could furnish protection for Jessie until I got there. One of the things that I encourage in my dogs is to stay with the hawk, it gives a bit of protection to the hawk if a Eagle should decide to rob her. ( I would also like to take credit for Betsy's actions and training, but I cannot lie like that. what she does is instinctive) I was several hundred yards away and had rocks and brush to negotiate so I concentrated on my footing. Karen told me later what occurred while I was trying to get there without busting my butt.

According to Karen, Jess didn't land on the duck, but on the ground about 15 feet away. Betsy got there just after Jess landed, looked at Jessie and made a big circle out in front of her. Jess took off right behind her and flew to grab the duck, which squirted under Jessie and was making its best time towards the water. Betsy in the mean time had run around both of them and was between the duck and the water. Betsy will not grab any bird as her instinct is to point, but the duck didn't know that and stopped long enough for Jessie to turn and grab the duck.  Betsy stayed with her until I got there. Jess was looking daggers at Betsy, thinking in her twisted little mind that Betsy intentions were to take the duck rather than help her. We are used to that attitude however.

I helped her to kill the duck and clipped her up as well. I let her eat the neck and pluck while I was warming up half of the breast of the last duck that she killed. I picked her up without any trouble and let her eat while we made the trek back to the truck. She jumped to her ledge in the truck and ate while I cleaned the duck. I gave her the liver and heart to eat as well. She got enough food that she would not eat any more.

I have been mulling over her actions recently and have just about decided that she somehow managed to hurt herself on one of the ducks that she caught, although there was no swelling present in her feet, she did suffer some sort of trauma to her right foot. Of course she could just be a cranky bitch.  :-{)

Problem solved!

The "crime spree" of Bonnie and Clyde was thankfully a short one. I went out last evening at about 7:30 PM to check on things. The things that I found was a boar Raccoon in a trap by the penned chickens. I dispatched him and was trying to get him out from the fence when I heard the free range Rooster screaming at the top of his lungs. I had only taken the 410 pistol with me and it is a single shot, so I hot footed it to the house and got the 20 gauge double shotgun, and "sprinted" back to the rescue. I didn't have to worry about the noise my breathing was making at that time as the Rooster was still screaming at the top of his lungs. I ripped the door to the outside chicken house open to surprise another Raccoon. She had apparently dug a hole through one of the logs that make up the building. The building is made of small logs and is old enough that the original strength is compromised. I shot her as she climbed the wall at the back of the building, but the second barrel did not go off. I broke the gun open to cock it again, as I had not brought extra ammo. She turned and came running back at me and the open door. Thankfully the shell fired the second time ending the situation. She had killed one of the three free range hens, (Only one of them was laying eggs. Want to bet which one she killed?) eating the organs and apparently decided that it was time to start on another one. I am glad that she did so and that the Rooster is fleet of foot, even in the dark, or I would have not had any idea that there were two of the miscreants. Raccoons are generally solitary, but the breeding season is Jan through March, apparently they were getting an early start. The male was a large one at about 35 pounds the female was average. It is surprising how tough a Raccoon is. I know that I hit her in the shoulder area at a range of less than 15 feet, yet it required another load of #6 shot to finish the job. It is also somewhat surprising that she ignored me shooting her buddy and continued her single minded chase of the "chicken" Rooster.

Here we go again!

There are many joys and pleasures in living in the country or in this case the desert. There are a few things that you have to contend with, Wind, Tumble weeds, Goat Heads, and the occasional wild critter that is most always hungry. Except for dumb Skunks, I don't begrudge them their appetite, but I will protect my own when necessary.

Last evening was a genuine "Dark and Stormy" night. The driveway alarm went off about 1:30 AM. I rationalized that it was most likely a Tumble weed blowing in front of the electric eye, so I stayed warm and dry, only looking out to make sure that there wasn't a car in the driveway. That was a mistake! This morning I discovered that there were a lot less pigeons than I had the day before. There was very little sign, only two dead pigeons on the floor and a "pigeon bob" that was spread wide with a few feathers and some Raccoon hair on it. Since there was a light covering of snow on the ground and the rock wall by the pigeon house, the little darling's footprints were quite visible. Karen had been threatening to thin the pigeons for some time, but I had intended to use the surplus for hawk food. Not a problem with over crowding now. I am guessing, but I estimate 15 or more gone. So it is time for steel traps and vigilance again.

Peg was down to weight so we decided to combine a hunting trip with a Raptor Run, (we do winter raptor surveys) by taking the car rather than the truck. I got Peg loaded and tried to start the car. Dead battery! The car is only two years old, so I was a bit surprised. I got my tools and began taking the positive clamp off with the idea of cleaning the posts and making sure that I had good contacts. They put a little "Micky mouse" brass clamp on the thing that wouldn't even tighten at all. I finally gave up and transferred things back to the truck. We will do the survey some other time.

I wanted to go to Danner where there are lots of Jacks and Bunnies, to give Peg an area that hasn't been hunted that hard for a while, in the hopes that with the increased opportunities she would be able to make something happen. When we got to the top of the driveway, the view of the Steen's was quite nice, so here is the usual winter picture.

Peg had never seen snow, and made a couple of aborted starts at the lumps of snow falling out of the Sage. She automatically assumed the cold wet raptor look, even though she hadn't even gotten her toes damp.

We had a few good slips, but really not that much. The snow looked as though there had been a rabbit stampede recently. There were tracks all over the place, but hardly any rabbits in view. There were three Golden Eagles hunting, Coyotes were also tracking up the snow and digging in various burrows. The Bunnies were for the most part in their burrows keeping warm, and apparently from the tracks, the Jacks had joined them inside as well. Apparently the rabbits had worn themselves out tracking up all the new snow when it had fallen, so they had retired to the burrows to rest up after the novelty had worn off. Peg really tried hard when we could find something to chase, and came very close, but wasn't able to close the deal again. All in all, I should have gone somewhere else until the snow either melted, or the rabbits got used to the snow.

When we arrived back home the view had changed with the arrival of a new storm.

Veterans Day

Jessie finally got back down to weight, or at least close to what she should be. She is actually still an ounce heavier that she was when she last caught a duck. She of course has been trying to seduce me into flying her again. Been there done that! Not this time. Better that she wait.

The forecast for today was wind later in the day and 20 percent chance of rain. I just about waited too long. Peg was down to weight, but Jess was a bit high, so I wanted to wait as long as I could to go out. Around noon we loaded up and headed to Arock to give it a try. For what ever reason they were running water from Jordan Creek into the pond where we were last successful. It was as full of water as could be and there were no ducks on it, so I decided to fly Peg first.

She really tried hard and was close several times, but did not manage to connect. It of course started sprinkling rain before we even got out of the truck. Karen stayed in the truck, but Peg and I went on and gave it our best. Unfortunately it wasn't good enough. Perhaps tomorrow.

The rain by this time was a bit harder and Karen and I had a discussion as to how Jess handled rain. I know most Peregrines don't pay much attention to rain, but Jess is a bit different don't you know. :-) I decided that I would at least give her a chance to make me mad, so I checked a pond that I had flown her on before, but we had never caught any thing there for one reason or the other. Mostly because Jessie screwed it up by being too low or out of position.

The pond is a bit tough to get into a good position for a flush due to the way that it is fenced. The rancher builds a damn good tight fence that is hard to get across. I refuse to step on the barb wire to climb across, so I found a rock Jack that I could climb, to get to the other side. Karen handed me Jess and I made my way below the dam to get into position. I turned Jess loose at the fence below the dam and got on my belly and crawled back under the fence to wait for her to get her pitch. She seemed to be flying just fine in the rain, but I didn't want her to get too wet, so I jumped up and gave it my best scary scream. Ducks rose like a cloud off the pond. There was even a Snow Goose there. Jessie cut through the flock taking a Gadwall out of it and taking it to the ground below the dam. I helped her kill it and after she had a chance to pluck for a while I pulled off a wing with the attached half breast and picked her up to finish her meal. It has been a while, so she eagerly ate her meal. I was very pleased that she allowed me to pick her up, as this was a fresh arrival from the north and had more fat on him than a butter ball turkey. There was enough fat on it to give her a treat, but at least she didn't make a meal of just fat. She was lucky last time that she didn't get Sour Crop. It took her the better part of two days to get that last meal put over. I think this time she will be ready to hunt with just one day inactive.

Nov 9th

Lee Mann arrived yesterday afternoon on his way back to Chiloquin. When he leaves Sylvester will go with him.

Peg and Sylvester were down to weight, so we loaded up all four birds. Lee has two other Harris Hawks besides Sylvester. Jessie just finally put over the rest of the Duck fat that she consumed the other day. She weighed well over 900 grams, so it will be a while yet for her.

We took Peg and Sylvester out first to hunt. We had some good flights with both of them missing. Finally one tried to make his escape over one of the Lava lumps. Peg hit him first, but he scraped her off on a bush.  Sylvester grabbed him by the hind foot, slowing him enough for Peg to stop him for good.

It was good that she was right there, as he would have had a heck of a time holding him much longer.

 

We gave them both a front leg to eat while I took care of the Jack. This was not a young dumb one, it was a big old stud Jack Rabbit. 

After they finished we started back to towards the truck. On the way we got another chase with Peg leading the chase. She made a shot at him, but missed. Sylvester flying by apparently confused the Jack, and while he was distracted Peg ran him down on foot. There was a short struggle with lots of hair flying, but she couldn't hold him. 

The little girl impressed me very much today, and it is time for her to be hunting by herself. Whether she can hold them by herself with her foot being like it is will remain to be seen. I am sure that she will eventually learn to compensate. I am not worried about her losing confidence now.

We hunted Lee's other two birds, but they were a bit fat and didn't have a strong enough desire to make enough of an effort to actually catch one. They didn't get much to eat, and they will be better tomorrow.

Much better!

Well today was a productive one. I managed to do the Annual on the Firestar, Dart is good for another year. I also scraped all the horse manure into one pile with the Quad, and repaired the Skunk live trap. The pan had come off earlier and it somehow had some dents and stuff in it that I had to remove. Its good until I lose my temper at a dumb Skunk again.

Peg and Sylvester were both at weight again as was Jessie. All were eager to go hunting, so at 3 PM we loaded up to see what today would bring. We decided to hunt the Harris's first, and went to a small field that generally holds several Jacks and a few Bunnies.

We never really got started as there was rabbits congregated in the corner where we generally start. We had probably 8 flights without getting more than 50 yards from the truck. Peg is really starting to crash the brush in serious attempts to catch one. She got after a Bunny in some really tall and thick Sage and crashed through the Sage with a loud thump. When I got there she was doing a good imitation of a Roadrunner, apparently sure that she was going to run him down on foot.

We started around the field when Peg took off again and crashed after a Jack turning it towards Sylvester, who thumped it. I could hear the Jack screaming, but Peg was sitting on top of a tree root ball watching. When I got there I could see why.

 

 

He had it by the head again and the Jacks rear legs had Sylvester stretched out and on his back. There was no place for Peg to grab. I am continually amazed that these birds show such constraint when another has a Rabbit. If Sly has one in the butt, Peg doesn't hesitate to grab the front end, but if he is wrapped up in it she doesn't horn in.

We tossed each a front leg for them to eat while I took care of the Jack. It was a big old Jack in the 5 to 7 pound range. We decided to quit while we were ahead and go fly Jess. ( I am finding it interesting that none of the Jacks that we are catching show no problems with Warbles, tape worms or show any problems with their liver. Generally the older ones are pretty gross. )

Here is a picture of a Bunny that the two caught two days ago, and I didn't add anything to the blog. In the whole time that I have had Sylvester we have only caught two Bunnies. Peg set it up for him, but he managed it.

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Jessie has been very restless all day, giving every indication that she wanted to be picked up. So I had high hopes after scoping the pond and finding that there was a good bunch of Mallards in the far shallow end of the pond.

 

She was restless as I walked into position, but when I loosed her, she flew to her rock. I continued on and got into position at the dam out of sight of the ducks. Karen and I sat down while she decided what she was going to do. This is new this year. Last year she never sat unless she was worn out and needed a rest. I have no clue as to what is going on in her mind with this stuff. My attention had wandered a bit when I heard a commotion and looked up to see her flying back towards me from the far end of the pond. (This is the Falcon version of Chicken. When she sets, It is a contest to see if she can make me pull the lure or other wise flinch. When I set down, she loses and will then go ahead and fly having decided that there isn't going to be a easy meal)  When she saw me on my feet she started climbing and was hanging right over the pond. The Mallards were screwed, there was no more water and the only chance that they had was to fly. There was about 15 or more Mallards in the flock, and she whacked one of them to the ground and did a quick turn around and pounced on the duck. I hustled to her as fast as I could since there were a bunch of cows at that end of the pond. There was one heifer that was closing in on her that I shooed away. The cow didn't know it, but if she had stuck her nose up to smell, she would have had a nose full of talons or been bitten. Jess doesn't take any crap from anyone.

I helped her dispatch it and clipped her up at the same time, tying her to my bag. Its funny, but if the duck is alive, she doesn't resent me helping her, but when it is dead, that is entirely an different story, and I am the one to bite. I let her have her way with the duck

Plucking satisfies Jessie somehow, and if she is just given raw meat to eat, she doesn't seem satisfied. I let her do as she liked and what she liked is "Duck Butter". She ate very little actual meat, but she did her best to eat every bit of fat on this duck. I let her eat all the way back to the truck and eventually sat her on her perch in the truck.

 

If you will notice there is almost no actual meat missing. When I got back to the house she was still searching for Duck fat. I have no clue how long it is going to take her to come back down to weight, but it was worth it.

On our way out we watched some of the deer in the field. It should be the peak of the rut, and this ole boy was checking out the girls. There was two forked horns in the field, but they were being low key so that they wouldn't incur his wrath.

We traveled home with a nice Sunset.

Nov 6th

The sunrise this morning was outstanding as it usually is when a storm is coming in.

I haven't fed Jessie since our last episode, and she is hungry! She has done her best to get me to either take her hunting or feed her. All of which I have ignored. I wanted to fly her yesterday, but a storm was coming in and the wind was howling. This morning she was light enough that I needed to either fly or feed her, so we loaded up and went to Appendix point.

Upon our arrival the leading edge of a squall was closing in on the pond, and a flock of ducks were flying. We had not flushed them, since they could not see or hear our approach. We waited to see what they would do, and at least four of them landed again, while the rest continued gaining altitude and disappeared to the South. 

The dogs and I made our way to the top of the cliff. I turned Jessie loose and waited for her to get into position. The wind at the top of the cliff was pretty strong, but she wasn't having any trouble with it.

When she was overhead I went up to the edge of the cliff and could see nothing on the water at all. Finally by throwing stuff, I was able to flush them out of the reeds where they were hiding. They cleared the water and Jessie began her stoop. Of course they saw her and turned back to the water. She hit one of them and knocked him down a few feet off the bank. Miss "dainty toes" strafed him a couple of time, but he made it back into the water.

Betsy saw and heard the strike and she was going nuts, whining and running to try to get there as fast as she could. Of course she didn't beat the duck to the water, so she was running all around the bank, whining and making all kinds of high pitched sounds. Curly in the mean time had run the other direction and I could see him about 60 feet from the dam swimming along the cliff edge. There is no place that he can climb out of the water until he either goes back the way he came or swims another 125 feet. I was sure the "dumb shit" was going to drown. I couldn't watch, so I started down to the reeds on the far end of the pond, thinking if he ran out of gas that would be the closest place to him. I was relieved to see him run back over the top of the cliff. (Not as dumb as I thought) I saw the duck that Jessie had hit, swimming out in front of the reeds. Jessie was still holding position over us, so Curly and I started looking for him. We found him at the narrow end of the reeds, but it was apparent that he wasn't able to fly, and he went around the reeds. Curly jumped in and much to my amazement Betsy, across on the other bank also dived in and was trying her best to catch up as well.  ( Betsy has never went swimming without being forced to do so. She was very scared of the water, but Karen and I put a leash on her this summer and forced her to swim in the pool. She would, without a leash, but it took a lot of encouragement on my part to get her to do so.)  I was so desperate that I took off what ever extra that I could shed and went out there with them, but none of us could find the duck again.

We walked back around the pond to the side that Karen was on, and Jessie was alternately holding position over me or stooping me as I walked. I ignored her until I got to the far bank. I tossed the lure with a pigeon leg on it, and called her to the fist for another. It is my intention to go out again this evening. Hopefully the storm will have passed by before then.

Karen had thoughtfully brought a towel in the likely event that one of the dogs would get wet. Curly likes to be dried, so he leans into it.

Apparently I am going to have to make a couple of sacrifices to the falconry Gods. We took Jessie out this evening at 4PM and went to the lake. I have never seen it without ducks on it, especially in the evening.

Both Betsy and Curly are all attention when Jessie's hood is removed, and they will stay on point until she begins to fly.

The lake is one spot that you cannot check without flushing any ducks that might be on it. I turned Jess loose and she went up pretty good, there were no ducks at all. Apparently the storms have moved the ducks South. Will have to wait for the next wave I guess. I fed her a half of a Pigeon breast. Will have to see what tomorrow brings.