Nov. 23rd, 2022

 I have been to four of my normal hunting spots, finding enough Jacks to make hunting worth while. I have been keeping Hope in the shop on a perch that I put in there for bad weather. She is doing well, and becoming acquainted once again to the discipline required to be called a "Falconry Bird". Almost two years of no close contact erodes the manners of even the calmest bird. Brenda and I took her out yesterday at 1100 grams of body weight, and while she did well, her desire to follow me soon wore off.  We checked another area at Arock, finding quite a few Jacks. She even pulled a fist full of hair off of a Jack that jumped right in front of us, but she began to think about going off on her own, so we came home. 

 Today she weighed 1031 and had regained her focus. Brenda and I took her to the far side of the ranch next door to see what the Jack population was in the Greasewood field. Its an area on the beginning of the vast Sage flats that eventually goes up to the Steens Mtn.

 

While Brenda is a bit mobility impaired, she still enjoys going with us and either following along or watching from the car. She is still enthralled with the scenery and is very happy just to look at it. In my first post I forgot to tell you about her dog, a little Yorkie that she had for 13 years.  We had left her at home with Josie and Brick three different times with no problems. I leave the main door open so that the dogs can go in and out as necessary through the "doggy door". "Charley" was very attached to Brenda, and would meet us when the driveway alarm went off, signalling our return. Our last trip, she was nowhere to be found.

Our house is down over the hill and not visible from most of the State gravel pit. I think that she heard a car pull into the pit to pee, as a lot of people do, and went up there thinking it was us coming home and someone picked her up "possibly" thinking that she had been dumped. It was pretty tough for Brenda for a while, but Brick is doing what he can to sooth her and get a little lap time as a bonus. Its a pretty tough situation for her.

Jacks are interesting creatures. It is thought that their "home territories" are about 2 acres, however they are reputed to travel up to 10 miles for food or water. So an area can be covered up with Rabbit tracks but they are mostly passing through. Mostly their travel is a leisurely meander, the key is to be there when they are traveling through. I was pleased to see that there were a few "trails" through the area, and some Sage cuttings.

I once hunted a small two- three acre field in Klamath, that held three Jacks. The field that had the Sage (cover) was bordered by a large canal, and the rest by open ground. The first Jacks that I caught weighed in the 5-6 lb weight range. I only hunted this spot once a week. At the end of the season there were still three Jacks in there, but they now weighed 2.5 to three pounds. As I killed one of the residents, another would move in to take his place getting smaller and smaller as the competition was removed.

I considered leaving the dogs at home, again wondering if they helped or hurt. Poor ole Josie at 12.5 has a growth on the base of her tongue, and wheezes like a freight train as she runs all over around and in front of us as we walk. As you have probably noticed the "Jackass" Rabbits got their names by their oversize ears. As you would guess their hearing is excellent, the better to hear the Coyotes. It is possible that the noise generated by the dogs allow the Jacks to concentrate on where they are, and thus hold still thinking that the danger has passed, only to be surprised by me following along quieter.  Yeah some times the dogs do bump into one and he flushes a bit further out than I would like, but Hope does have wings and can catch up pretty quick. The problem is the amount of time that the Jack has to form a plan. I assure you they do have a plan. Hope's odds improve exponentially the shorter the "slip". Within 20 yards is almost sure death, 50 yards is a 25 % chance. So far the two Jacks that we have caught were young of the year. The big ones have all gotten away so far.

We didn't go hunting till after the mail had been delivered, so in my opinion it was the slack time of the day for traveling Jack Rabbits. We ran three Jacks before she caught the forth one. It jumped about 30 yards out and when she slammed into the ground behind a large Greasewood, I heard a short squeak. I ran down there to help if needed, and found that Hope was bracketed by both dogs. She had the rabbit pretty well covered up.  Brick was smelling over her shoulder to see what she had caught. She paid no attention to either of them. She had caught it by the head, and it was going no where. She allowed me to kill it, I gave her a chunk of meat and she moved off to eat it. All in all we only walked a mile and half. Not as much exercise as I needed, but I will take it.

I was concerned about Hope's right foot. If you remember she "Stone bruised" her right foot pad. Over the winter that talon had folded over when she sat on her perch in the mews. I was concerned that it might have atrophied and was a danger to her foot pad. Now that I have her out of the mews and on a smaller perch, it doesn't fold over as much, and she used that foot to grab the rabbit by the head.

My friend Pat Brewster has also started hunting in her area in Burns,Or. She has a female Harris Hawk as well. She also has a new dog, a German Shepard that she is using this year as her hunting companion. She has had problems with Coyotes coming to the natural Rabbit calls. Most of the Sage there is a lot taller that what I am used to, thus the Coyotes don't see her until they are right up on her. Her bird has finally decided that "Wren" is not going to cause her problems. As you can see from the photo's she is having to deal with snow.

 

Shepherds make great hunting companions. I had one in the 80's that shared a Volkswagen with Karen, myself and a Goshawk that rode unhooded on the back of my seat so she could look out the window. I suspect that this one is better trained than any of my dogs.

Oh, my boy - Bud has refused to come to me for four days. Maybe he is catching Mice? 

 

Nov 20, 2022

 Brenda and I have mostly achieved the blending of our lifestyles, and are doing well in the process. I am amazed that this process has been without stress. Coming from the same upbringing and lifestyles I am sure has helped a lot, but the main thing is that we both want it to work, strongly enough, that we each are willing to do what is necessary to achieve that goal. That we knew and liked each other from the beginning of our lives has I am sure, formed a basis for that start. It doesn't hurt that we both are self sufficient and are quite capable of entertaining ourselves with out needing outside stimulation. The semi isolation of this area has not been a factor, rather we both like it. We do like company, but do not require outside stimulation to be happy. She loves the High Desert, and does not find it depressing. Believe me I have searched by every means available to me to find a woman with her outlook and disposition.

I have reluctantly begun my falconry training. Reluctantly because it seems that the animal world is about as screwed up as the humans. The game populations are seriously depressed in this area. Rabbits are having to contend with a "Hemorrhagic fever" that is kicking the crap out of the few Rabbits that are still around. The Duck populations are plagued with a form of "Bird Flu" that is extremely fatal to the Raptor populations. Lat check found that at least a 1000 cases of Bird Flu is occurring in the Western Flyway. I received a report that a falconers bird in the center of the state, caught a Duck on Monday and his Peregrine was dead by Wed.

I decided at the beginning of the season that I would only fly Bud, My Gyr hybrid cross, on bagged Ducks that I was sure was not infected. I bought 10 "flighted Mallards" from a Game farm, and they will be the only Ducks that he will be exposed to.

I had been hanging back on hunting Hope because the Rabbits are so scarce from their cyclic population crash, that I felt guilty in catching any at all. I just brought her out from the mews at the beginning of the month, and flew her for the first time on the 18th. I took her to my old spot at Arock and was pleasantly surprised to find that there were some Jacks there. She was a bit out of shape and wasn't able to catch any of the Jacks that we did find. I however was very pleased that we saw any rabbits at all. It seems that the Bunny ( Cottontails) was quite high, but these little escapa artist and rarely far enough from a hole to ever get caught by something as "slow" as a Harris Hawk. She did however get some good and very needed exercise. We put in 3.25 miles in covering the field before I called it quits. She had flights on numerous Bunnies and at least 6 Jacks. Everybody was faster and smarter. I thought she did well considering how long its been since she has chased anything.

Today I went to the Ranch next door to see how many Rabbits were living there. It only took us a mile and half for her to snag a really fat Jack of the year. In that time we also had chases on three other Jack Rabbits, so perhaps things are not as bad as I thought. 

I am continually amazed at Bud. This is his second year and he is still as much of a pain in the butt as he was last year. I would guess that this is my payment for being so foolish to think that I only needed a Drone to turn one of these hybrids into a dynamite game Hawk.  In the first place there is nothing wrong with this guy's genetics, the only reason that he is such a shit is entirely due to me. Somewhere I screwed up badly, either in the timing of picking him up, or my handling. Which ever is the case he has the ability to make me wonder if I still want to do this.

I could never pick him up without him throwing a hissy fit. Its truly a "love hate relationship." I pick him up, he bates, and thrashes around, screaming like I am killing him. I try to put him on the scales to see how much he weighs, He manages to bate off the scales hard enough to toss the thing on the floor. I reach for the hood and he goes off again. When I began to take his weight down in preparation to begin flying, he would twist and turn tangling his jesses to the point that he walked like a penguin. It of course is taking my life in my hands to try to untangle him. I had a total of four swivels on him so that each jess could turn and not tangle. It did not sway him at all, he repeatedly had his jesses tangled and twisted to the point that they were unusable. I left him loose for three days until I decided that it was better to have him loose, and not feed him until he was hungry enough to come to me. That way I did not have to weigh him at all. If he came to me he was at flying weight. Yes at times he does bang into the wire, but even if he looks like a feather duster by the end of the year, its still better than the alternative. He is not afraid of me, far from it! He has tried several times to bite me, to "defend" his food. He "ain't " scared.

Even with all that, he does not wander, he does step off a Duck after he has eaten some of the neck, he does fly to my fist after he has eaten all on the lure. He has never screwed off, but he is a royal pain in the ass! You would think that if I go out to get him and he doesn't come to me, I turn around and leave. One would reason that the raptor would understand that not coming to the fist meant that he wouldn't eat. Then the next opportunity it would be best to come to the fist for the offered ( on the fist) food. He seems to have trouble with that concept. He went three days without food last week because he wouldn't come to the fist to eat it. I offer, if he doesn't show some sign that he wants it, I go away. I then come back about a hour later and offer again. If he doesn't come, the next opportunity will be the next day. The temps are in the single digits here at night. Every morning in that three day fast, I would check in the morning to see if he was still alive. 

Now he has a new quirk. Today was the second time I have seen it. The drone is set for 530 feet. That is as high as it goes. It will stay there until the battery runs out, then it will land where I started it. As you can imagine at 500 feet the places he chooses to land can be pretty far away. Its not at my feet at least. The last two times he has grabbed the lure with a Quail leg and thigh, then turned it loose about 50 feet off the ground. There is a parachute on the other end of the lure line. Today he turned it loose and I guess landed on a fence post on the runway. I got the line and swung it like a lure. He came right away but did not want to land on the ground. He straffed it till he tore off the thigh, then went to a fence pose to eat it. He didn't try to go off with it, just waited till he finished the thing, before he flew to the fist to get the rest of it. The thought has occurred to me that a sick duck might be the answer to my problems.