Third day

Pud was down to 813 grams today. Karen is still gimpy, so I left her behind to do my chores and headed out to the field.

Pud allowed the first two Jacks to go unmolested, but soon started chasing any and all rabbits that flushed in front of us. Most of the flights had no chance since she wasn't crashing the brush, merely trying to line up on them much as a novice trying to land on a narrow runway. We walked for two hours solid, with her flying off after the rabbits, turning around and flying back to the perch. I rarely have to call her, or even pay attention to her once she lands after a chase. If I have seen the rabbit leave the area, I just walk on and she comes to the perch before I have gotten very far away. In all actuality if she caught something occasionally, I could not ask for a better hawk.

She tried so hard and often that I felt sorry for her today. It was special and a bit amusing to be out on a fine fall morning walking though the Sage to the raucous territorial boasting of the Rooster Pheasants across the valley. Geese gathering for their southward migration forming tentative Vee's in the skies as they moved from night time resting ponds to day time feeding areas. I even had a passage juvenile Coopers Hawk fly right in front of us to check out the weird Hawk that was hanging out with a man. She sat on a rock 30 yards away watching us until her attention, fickle at best, took her off to find something to kill. Today was a special day at least for me. As we walked along, I talked to her, telling her what was required for her to be able to make a living. I can't say whether or not she listened. She did try, and didn't want to quit, even after two hours or more.

After I arrived home, it was Jessie's turn. She has been quite restless sitting on the indoor perch, and of course rebellious as well. She was down in weight a bit today as I didn't feed her yesterday. I took her outside on the front lawn and tossed the lure. She ignored it for a bit too long, so I brought her back in and secured her to her perch. I again took her out an hour or so later, and sat her on the fence while I tossed the lure to the ground in front of her. She finally flew down to it, grabbing the food that I had tied there. She sat for about five minutes before she started eating. After she finished she hopped over to look over the fist, and again rejected the offering that I had for her, deciding to show her contempt by trying to fly away. I retaliated by hooding her for the night.

One of the problems or side effects of living in an area so remote, and removed from what is called "civilization" is the lack of comfort stops, or even places to get off the road. There is little to no cover anywhere, so driveways and gravel pits, when the roads in to them can be seen, are places often chosen for that sometimes unforeseen and unwelcome necessity when it arises. The ranch drive way across from us is often the target of such  emergencies. The gate to the road is only closed when they are weaning calves, and it is a bit disgusting to have to walk around someone's less than thoughtful deposit generally right in the middle of the road. Off in the Sage it wouldn't be so bad, but they rarely do more than get behind the car. It is also amusing to me how unprepared most people are. Too used to having someone else handle their little inconviences for them I guess. I have been amused to notice that the preponderance of them tend to use their socks to tidy up afterwards. Since there is almost always two of them lying in the aftermath, I have wondered if the job was that big, or if they don't want to explain why they are only wearing one sock. Do they take them off first or hop around after the fact trying to get them off. Perhaps that is why they use two rather than one. I had thought that the phenomenon was specific to the ranch next door, but when I stopped at Rome to buy gas the other day I noticed a pair of socks in front of their shop by the gas pumps. Funny they all seem to be brown?