What is it about Christmas??

The first year we moved here, a Badger got into the Chicken pen on Christmas Eve and killed 17 of my Chickens. His mistake was that he decided that the Chicken house was such a great supermarket, that he decided to dig a burrow in there to be near his food source.

As you are aware, I have decided to stop hunting with the Hawks this year, and the area is so drought stricken, along with several other factors, that there is little to hunt other than Ducks. I had hoped to be able to take up the slack with my predator hunting. Even they are so reduced in population that I have yet to be able to call anything in at all. So mainly I am giving the Malheur public library a workout with my Kindle.

Karen had just gotten back from getting the mail at Burns Jct, and I was looking on the computer for a distraction of any kind. Betsy, the paranoid, began barking. I looked to Karen to see if the driveway alarm had gone off, but she was just as puzzled as I. I looked out the parking area windows and could find nothing there. I yelled at Betsy, but she refused to stop. Then I heard Yogi screaming her defiance. A quick check revealed a Badger circling around the weathering area trying to find a way inside, with Yogi daring him to come on in. Every body is braver on the other side of a fence.

A quick trip to the gun closet and the .17 HMR and I went out to meet our visitor. He saw me and in true Badger form began advancing towards me. Well that was a mistake!

The .17 is the perfect weapon for Badgers. The hole in his chest is not even visible, not even a blood spot, but he dropped in his tracks. The little .17 grain bullet obviously blew his heart to pieces. He never knew what hit him.

Josie is the bravest of the bunch. Brick stayed well back until he could be sure that it was safe.

Not my normal hunting attire, and it looks as though I could have pulled my sweats up a bit as well.
I am sure glad that he didn't find the Chickens first. I would have never found him until after the fact.

Now I get to skin him. I have to admit that is going to be interesting. I will need to skin his feet out and then there is the musk gland that should make it interesting.

Saturday:

I decided to experiment with this one. Always before I have skinned the critters as soon as I could, always the same day. To sell a hide it must be "fleshed", stretched and dried. A fleshing knife is similar to a draw knife used to peel bark off trees, only it is dull. Of course when a hide is fresh, the fat is a bit of a pain to get off, requiring a fair amount of exercise. Of course with anything one can over do it as well, generally when you least expect or need it. I prefer to "work smart", or as my dear ole dad used to say, Lazy.

I have tried in the past using an air hose to separate the skin from the critter. The result was no different from one not blown up as far as I can tell. I decided that I would let the critter cool overnight, pump him up with the air hose and see if things were better. I may as well admit I was stalling because I didn't really want to skin this suckers feet down to the nails. Of course stalling wasn't going to make it go away, but it seemed like a good idea at the time.

I turned the heat on in the shop this morning so that I could at least be comfortable. While I was waiting for it to heat up in the shop, I realized that the weather was better than it would be in the afternoon and I needed to fix some fence down in the lower pasture. I  had thought that I would skin the Badger then fix the fence. Well, I decided that since I was going to need Karen to help me, I had better put off the skinning until we finished the fence.

I gathered every thing up in the quad, and even though we had about forty feet to stand up, It didn't take nearly as long as I had thought. So I put every thing up and came in the house to warm up. Then Karen asked me what a Badger was worth on the market. I did a computer check and couldn't find much information. I finally decided to call the place that I sold my stuff last year, and found that $25.00 was about all I could expect.  Wellllll, apparently there was no need to stall any longer. I didn't need to skin feet for a critter that was going to hang on MY wall. It feels strange to say it, but 25 bucks ain't worth the trouble. I will work for free, but not cheap.

I got all set up, strung out the air hose and pumped him up. Full of air with his stubby legs he could have passed for the way that he looked when he was trying to get in the weathering area with the hawks. No longer restrained with having to please someone else, I cut his hide right above the ankles, and proceeded on with it.

Well I can tell you that leaving a Badger to cool out does not make the skinning process any easier. Neither does blowing them up with the air hose. Fleshing is just as hard warm or cold. I did however somehow miss the Mustelidae glands, because he was not even as stinky as a Coyote. One out of three isn't that bad.

Since this entire thing is for my benefit, I decided to see if rolling the skin in Borax overnight will make the fleshing process any easier. Still stalling I guess. I will let you know in the next post.

Jasper update

I am sure that most of you remember Jasper, a special little Kestrel that Tami Flew as her first raptor. Tami of course is our neighbor and my last apprentice. Jasper was caught in a family group that had not dispersed. He consequently had no idea of what he could catch and what he could not. To me the perfect timing for a future falconry bird.

We entered him to Starlings, which were as big as he was. He had no idea that Starlings were anything  other than normal prey for a Kestrel.

 He taught Tami a lot about raptors and how to teach them to hunt. We had a good season with him and for his reward, released him here at the house.

He has spent the fall and winters here at the house. The first year he stayed in one of the windsocks, which gave him shelter, but left him out in the wind. I built a Kestrel box in the hopes that he would pick up a female in the spring and raise a bunch of little Jaspers.

I saw him the first spring with a female and he showed her the box. She took one look around and declined. They ended up going over to the ranch and nesting in the trees.

His female for whatever reason, died just as the youngsters began flying. There were two of them, and Tami eventually rescued them and tame hacked them back to the wild. One of the males actually spent nights on her back porch for most of the winter.I believe that he is still there, but has moved into the Barn.

Jasper came back over to our place and again spent the fall and winter here. For the most part I just kept an eye on him. When we started getting some really serious weather and cold, he began hunting closer to the house. I decided to see if he remembered me, and waved a Starling at him and threw it in the parking lot. He wasted no time in swooping down and carrying it off to a spot to eat. When I judged that he was having trouble finding food, I would feed him. He always responded.

This last spring he again paired with a female and they raised a clutch of young over at the ranch. As the youngsters got bigger and more demanding, he began to spend a lot of the day here at his old spots. When the young ones finally dispersed, he came home to stay. This time he started using the Kestrel box to sleep in at night.

The windsocks are his major hunting perch's. He also hunts from the chicken house and telephone line over the horse corral. He is hunting birds when he uses them.

I went out to do the evening chores this evening, and could hear a strange sound coming from the Pigeon house. I identified the sound as I got closer. Kestrel! I opened the door and there was Jasper trying to get out of the screened window. I held the door open and called his name. He saw the open door and flew out landing on the telephone wire. On the floor was a Starling with no head. I picked it up and walked out in the open end of the runway, called his name and waved, the threw the Starling out on the ground. He took off, snatched it up and took it to a comfortable perch to eat it.

Apparently he either saw a Starling go into the Pigeon door ( 8x10 ) of chased one into there. Earlier this year I had to let him out of the Chicken house after he went in chasing Sparrows. This is his third winter here. I find it amusing that he still remembers our association. I have never tried to make him dependent, but if he shows any signs that he is having trouble getting food, he know where I live.