So last day of the season. 5pm. Hitting the fields hard. Several near misses…
Its getting late in the day and I'm moving from field to field trying to catch one of these late season rabbits off guard. My daughter is a frequent hunting companion and she helps me flush the rabbits. I've got Minerva in perfect position up on a pole at the edge of the field. I'm walking in the middle of the field toward her and my daughter is walking the edge of the field along the row of poles that Minerva is patiently waiting on. The idea is to have the rabbits jump up and run away from the people and into the field in Minerva's direction. No luck here at this field, so my little helper stops near the brush right under the pole where Minerva is sitting, and I've given up and am walking back over to call Minerva down and move over to next and last field. My daughter is bored at this point and starts lazily kicking the bushes under Minerva's pole. Rabbit jumps up, Minerva jumps up, my daughter jumps up, and I'm watching the whole thing from a distance as I approach. Rabbit is running right into the middle of the field where we want him to go, sees me and does a 180. Minerva follows. Rabbit bolts through the field, across the side walk and into the street, headed for the landscaped bushes next to the business on the other side of the street. Minerva makes her move and dives when the rabbit is almost to the curb on the other side of the street. She touches the rabbits hind quarters because I see the push, but she's unable to latch and the rabbit evades her and dives into the cover of the bushes. This is where a good dog could have given me a second flush. We looked for 10 minutes and couldn't find the rabbit in the is low ground cover. So frustrating.
Minerva hops onto my fist and we move over to the last field of the day for a few more minutes of hunting before dusk on the last day of the season. Got one near miss at the new field, and I put her back up again. I've got maybe one more chance and I've saved a choice area for last. There are always rabbits in this last little patch, and I had seen movement over there when we first walked up. Minerva is in perfect position to strike as I begin working this last patch of brush. I snapped this pic:
I look up at her in time to see her take off and start flying right toward the middle of the field with a purpose. I'm thinking she sees a rabbit and she's going for it, so I go running that way to keep the rabbit moving and focused on me… But Minerva just keeps going… Where is she going? She's taking off again! Dammit! No time for this!!! I lose sight of her behind a building that she flew over. As we start our long walk in the direction we last saw Minerva, I realize its almost dusk. We are done hunting one way or the other. I'm also hungry and I know my daughter is too. As I round the corner of the building visually scanning every possible perching point for birds, I realize there is a hawk on a light pole right in front of me and its shaking its disheveled feathers off. Whew! I found her. But why did she come all the way over here to this building? Wait… That's not my hawk. That's a wild bird with no bracelets or jesses. So where is Minerva. The disheveled adult bird is staring hard over at the nearby building. I follow the gaze, and there is Minerva eating this bird's catch. As the sun begins to set.
Now go back and look at the pic. See how she's looking off in the distance, up high, not at the ground where rabbits would be… That my friends is what we call a clue. Its a clue I missed until long after the fact. A more seasoned falconer would probably have caught that.
So its dusk, my bird is up on a building, out of reach, cropping up on this other hapless bird's meal, and I've got a starving 10 year old and a wife calling to see where we are and when we're coming home. Sh*t! This is not good. Nothing to do but wait for her to finish and then call her down like usual. She finishes eating, and I give her a few minutes to settle in and relax after her meal. Its dark now, but were are right under a street light, and being the prepared-for-antything kind of guy I am, I've got a flashlight and a headlamp with fresh batteries. I hold up my fist with a tasty morsel and spot light it with the light and… No dice. Tossing the food on the ground ALWAYS works, right? Nope. Not tonight. Alright… time to pull out the "big guns". I carry a thawed rabbit leg with me to trade her off of any rabbits that she catches. I pull out this whole rabbit leg. I'm about 20 feet away from the bird waving this giant bloody rabbit leg and calling her. She glances at it and them promptly looks away without a care. Okay. If that's how she wants to play it… Out comes the show stopper. I pull out the rabbit lure and attach the rabbit leg to it. My daughter runs this lure for Minerva several times a week and the bird loves it. Ava takes off at full speed. Minerva looks at the lure, thinks about going for it, and then does nothing. Settles back in and rouses her feathers. She's good for the night and settling in. Its about 9 o'clock now. Security for the strip mall showed up, watched us for about 20 minutes and then left. I'm starving, my daughter is crying, wife is pissed, and the bird is sitting on a building, not more than 10 feet away form me, and I can't do a darn thing about any of it. I circle the building looking for a way to get on the roof, but these new modern buildings put the roof access INSIDE the building to thwart people like me who want to get on the roof and have no business there.
What to do? Hmm… Gotta get creative. The ledge where Minerva is sitting is only about 10 feet off the ground. If I had a 6' ladder, I could reach her. But I don't. OOOHHHhhh! I have an idea! I'll toss the baited lure up to her. If I land it two or three feet away, she won't be able to resist the free food, even though she's already got a full crop. You remember the day I caught her, right? If she binds to the lure like usual, I can use the string to gently pull the greedy bird off the roof and catch her and the lure on the way down. Not ideal, and certainly not how it is supposed to be done, but desperate times call for desperate measures. So I pull out the lure, bait it up and I look up to spot where I want to toss it and… Minerva flies off into the night before I even do anything. What? They aren't supposed to fly at night.
She flies to a lamp post across the street, just like the one in the picture above. I can see her silhouette, but since I'm looking straight into the light, I can't see much else. I'm right in the light now, so I do the dance with the rabbit leg drop, and the lure and all that. After about three minutes on the pole, she takes off again and flies around the back of the strip mall building.
Great. Perfect. Just what we needed. Thinking I've really lost her now, me and Ava begin walking around the building to get back to the van and pull out the telemetry device. Who knows where she's gone now? As we round the corner into the parking lot, there is Minerva sitting in a small landscaping tree. This is a new plaza, so the trees are all young and immature. Too thin to climb. I walk up to the tree and she's only about 2 feet farther up than my reach. I look for a trash can or something to stand on… Nothing. So frustrating. She looks a little worried, so I'm afraid she'll bolt again. The only thing I can think of to stand on is my van. So I back it right up to the curb and climb on top, trying desperately to not scare the bird into flight again. I walk as far as I can on the buckling roof of my van, and I'm at eye level with her now, but I just can't quite reach her. She's about 2 or there feet beyond me reach and she won't come to the food or lure. I climb back down and I'm going to back the van up the curb and onto the side walk. I'm expecting the police to show up any minute: "Hahaha… Hi Officer. Just doing a little falconry with my car on the side walk, in the dark, after the season has now officially ended, with my crying daughter…" Luckily, the popo had better things to do that night. Then I started thinking: "Man. I wish the popo would show up. I'm out here after dark with my kid and I can't leave without the bird…".
Now I don't want to scare the bird, so I slowly back the rear tires right up to the curb and then gun it to get up onto the sidewalk. No such luck. The tires just start spinning and smoking, and making all sorts of racket. The bird is just 10 feet away form all this non-sense, but she stays put. So I pull forward a couple of feet and I make a run at it hoping the momentum will carry me up onto the curb. It does, and then I have to slam on the brakes so I don't back right into the little tree she's on. Once again I climb onto the roof of the van and slowly walk back to the bird in the tree. I just now she's going to take off any minute, but she doesn't. I reach right out and grab a jess, and then ease her onto my fist. She seems pretty relaxed about the whole thing and happy to be on the glove again. I'm so hooped up on adrenaline that my knees are shaking and I'm about to collapse. Thinking quickly, I attach the long leash to her jesses, so that if I fall off the roof she won't be able to fly away again. I successfully climb down, get her in her transport box, and nearly collapse from the excitement.
Our story has a happy ending. Everyone goes home safe with a great story to tell. Or maybe its an awful story, but its a story none the less. Me and the daughter head to In N Out for a 10 o'clock burger and that is how we ended the season.
Its getting late in the day and I'm moving from field to field trying to catch one of these late season rabbits off guard. My daughter is a frequent hunting companion and she helps me flush the rabbits. I've got Minerva in perfect position up on a pole at the edge of the field. I'm walking in the middle of the field toward her and my daughter is walking the edge of the field along the row of poles that Minerva is patiently waiting on. The idea is to have the rabbits jump up and run away from the people and into the field in Minerva's direction. No luck here at this field, so my little helper stops near the brush right under the pole where Minerva is sitting, and I've given up and am walking back over to call Minerva down and move over to next and last field. My daughter is bored at this point and starts lazily kicking the bushes under Minerva's pole. Rabbit jumps up, Minerva jumps up, my daughter jumps up, and I'm watching the whole thing from a distance as I approach. Rabbit is running right into the middle of the field where we want him to go, sees me and does a 180. Minerva follows. Rabbit bolts through the field, across the side walk and into the street, headed for the landscaped bushes next to the business on the other side of the street. Minerva makes her move and dives when the rabbit is almost to the curb on the other side of the street. She touches the rabbits hind quarters because I see the push, but she's unable to latch and the rabbit evades her and dives into the cover of the bushes. This is where a good dog could have given me a second flush. We looked for 10 minutes and couldn't find the rabbit in the is low ground cover. So frustrating.
Minerva hops onto my fist and we move over to the last field of the day for a few more minutes of hunting before dusk on the last day of the season. Got one near miss at the new field, and I put her back up again. I've got maybe one more chance and I've saved a choice area for last. There are always rabbits in this last little patch, and I had seen movement over there when we first walked up. Minerva is in perfect position to strike as I begin working this last patch of brush. I snapped this pic:
I look up at her in time to see her take off and start flying right toward the middle of the field with a purpose. I'm thinking she sees a rabbit and she's going for it, so I go running that way to keep the rabbit moving and focused on me… But Minerva just keeps going… Where is she going? She's taking off again! Dammit! No time for this!!! I lose sight of her behind a building that she flew over. As we start our long walk in the direction we last saw Minerva, I realize its almost dusk. We are done hunting one way or the other. I'm also hungry and I know my daughter is too. As I round the corner of the building visually scanning every possible perching point for birds, I realize there is a hawk on a light pole right in front of me and its shaking its disheveled feathers off. Whew! I found her. But why did she come all the way over here to this building? Wait… That's not my hawk. That's a wild bird with no bracelets or jesses. So where is Minerva. The disheveled adult bird is staring hard over at the nearby building. I follow the gaze, and there is Minerva eating this bird's catch. As the sun begins to set.
Now go back and look at the pic. See how she's looking off in the distance, up high, not at the ground where rabbits would be… That my friends is what we call a clue. Its a clue I missed until long after the fact. A more seasoned falconer would probably have caught that.
So its dusk, my bird is up on a building, out of reach, cropping up on this other hapless bird's meal, and I've got a starving 10 year old and a wife calling to see where we are and when we're coming home. Sh*t! This is not good. Nothing to do but wait for her to finish and then call her down like usual. She finishes eating, and I give her a few minutes to settle in and relax after her meal. Its dark now, but were are right under a street light, and being the prepared-for-antything kind of guy I am, I've got a flashlight and a headlamp with fresh batteries. I hold up my fist with a tasty morsel and spot light it with the light and… No dice. Tossing the food on the ground ALWAYS works, right? Nope. Not tonight. Alright… time to pull out the "big guns". I carry a thawed rabbit leg with me to trade her off of any rabbits that she catches. I pull out this whole rabbit leg. I'm about 20 feet away from the bird waving this giant bloody rabbit leg and calling her. She glances at it and them promptly looks away without a care. Okay. If that's how she wants to play it… Out comes the show stopper. I pull out the rabbit lure and attach the rabbit leg to it. My daughter runs this lure for Minerva several times a week and the bird loves it. Ava takes off at full speed. Minerva looks at the lure, thinks about going for it, and then does nothing. Settles back in and rouses her feathers. She's good for the night and settling in. Its about 9 o'clock now. Security for the strip mall showed up, watched us for about 20 minutes and then left. I'm starving, my daughter is crying, wife is pissed, and the bird is sitting on a building, not more than 10 feet away form me, and I can't do a darn thing about any of it. I circle the building looking for a way to get on the roof, but these new modern buildings put the roof access INSIDE the building to thwart people like me who want to get on the roof and have no business there.
What to do? Hmm… Gotta get creative. The ledge where Minerva is sitting is only about 10 feet off the ground. If I had a 6' ladder, I could reach her. But I don't. OOOHHHhhh! I have an idea! I'll toss the baited lure up to her. If I land it two or three feet away, she won't be able to resist the free food, even though she's already got a full crop. You remember the day I caught her, right? If she binds to the lure like usual, I can use the string to gently pull the greedy bird off the roof and catch her and the lure on the way down. Not ideal, and certainly not how it is supposed to be done, but desperate times call for desperate measures. So I pull out the lure, bait it up and I look up to spot where I want to toss it and… Minerva flies off into the night before I even do anything. What? They aren't supposed to fly at night.
She flies to a lamp post across the street, just like the one in the picture above. I can see her silhouette, but since I'm looking straight into the light, I can't see much else. I'm right in the light now, so I do the dance with the rabbit leg drop, and the lure and all that. After about three minutes on the pole, she takes off again and flies around the back of the strip mall building.
Great. Perfect. Just what we needed. Thinking I've really lost her now, me and Ava begin walking around the building to get back to the van and pull out the telemetry device. Who knows where she's gone now? As we round the corner into the parking lot, there is Minerva sitting in a small landscaping tree. This is a new plaza, so the trees are all young and immature. Too thin to climb. I walk up to the tree and she's only about 2 feet farther up than my reach. I look for a trash can or something to stand on… Nothing. So frustrating. She looks a little worried, so I'm afraid she'll bolt again. The only thing I can think of to stand on is my van. So I back it right up to the curb and climb on top, trying desperately to not scare the bird into flight again. I walk as far as I can on the buckling roof of my van, and I'm at eye level with her now, but I just can't quite reach her. She's about 2 or there feet beyond me reach and she won't come to the food or lure. I climb back down and I'm going to back the van up the curb and onto the side walk. I'm expecting the police to show up any minute: "Hahaha… Hi Officer. Just doing a little falconry with my car on the side walk, in the dark, after the season has now officially ended, with my crying daughter…" Luckily, the popo had better things to do that night. Then I started thinking: "Man. I wish the popo would show up. I'm out here after dark with my kid and I can't leave without the bird…".
Now I don't want to scare the bird, so I slowly back the rear tires right up to the curb and then gun it to get up onto the sidewalk. No such luck. The tires just start spinning and smoking, and making all sorts of racket. The bird is just 10 feet away form all this non-sense, but she stays put. So I pull forward a couple of feet and I make a run at it hoping the momentum will carry me up onto the curb. It does, and then I have to slam on the brakes so I don't back right into the little tree she's on. Once again I climb onto the roof of the van and slowly walk back to the bird in the tree. I just now she's going to take off any minute, but she doesn't. I reach right out and grab a jess, and then ease her onto my fist. She seems pretty relaxed about the whole thing and happy to be on the glove again. I'm so hooped up on adrenaline that my knees are shaking and I'm about to collapse. Thinking quickly, I attach the long leash to her jesses, so that if I fall off the roof she won't be able to fly away again. I successfully climb down, get her in her transport box, and nearly collapse from the excitement.
Our story has a happy ending. Everyone goes home safe with a great story to tell. Or maybe its an awful story, but its a story none the less. Me and the daughter head to In N Out for a 10 o'clock burger and that is how we ended the season.
