In Game: vs. Rhode Island

[raptorcat]

Chapter 11 of The Falconry Chronicles: My Five Wonderful Years With Roxanne

By the time I received Roxanne from my veterinarian friend, I had completed my two years as an apprentice falconer, and Larry signed off on the paperwork with the Wildlife Commission for me to become a fully licensed general falconer. I felt good about what I had accomplished; I didn't know it that first season with Roxanne, but I had lucked into possessing the perfect Redtail hawk. She was every falconer's dream: intelligent, fearless, a quick learner, and a great companion who eased all fears and insecurities I harbored over whether she'd simply fly away during an outing or betray my inadequacies as a trainer and caretaker of what was, after all, an apex predator with sociopathic tendencies.

Her initial training went smoothly and she was soon accompanying me on walks through the half-dozen or so patches of prime woods and fields where we had landowner permission to hunt. (In fact, as she progressed from novice to proven squirrel-killer, I began to get invitations from interested landowners who invariably asked to let them tag along for the show.) She quickly learned to stay behind me as we progressed on our walks so she could observe when the squirrels, in response to my presence in their living room, would move to keep themselves hidden from me by using the trunk or branches as a shield; as I walked past them, they switched to the side away from me, thereby exposing themselves to Roxanne in the process. Then the chase would begin, usually with an initial frontal attack; if Roxanne didn't meet with immediate success, then the chase would become a chess match, with Roxanne making a move to a nearby branch or even an adjacent tree, and the squirrel reacting accordingly. Eventually, she would be satisfied with her angle of attack, and her dive would cause a dizzying series of escape moves by the squirrel: corkscrewing down the trunk, leaping into space to catch a nearby branch, or even bailing out of the tree entirely to find a hole or thicket it could bolt to on the ground.

Each chase was thrilling, but the best part was observing how, throughout many outings, Roxanne learned about squirrel behavior and would adapt her hunting techniques accordingly. She also displayed an excellent memory of the places we hunted, so that if a squirrel had eluded her two weeks before by ducking into a certain knothole, she would position herself in a subsequent hunt to cut off the squirrel's escape route. Her success rate began to mount.

But it all came to a crashing halt on a cold, damp day in late February. Roxanne had spotted a bushytail high in a large tulip poplar tree that was growing on the side of a small hill. This tree happened to have a feature that was one of my favorite set-ups for getting squirrels to give away their positions: a large group of twining vines that ran up the tree and into the highest branches. By pulling on the vines, I could "ring the doorbell" and make the vines shake and clunk against the trunk, creating a racket that must be terrifying to squirrels, for it always made them lose their nerve. Roxanne made her move amidst the noise and confusion. I was craning my neck upward, trying to keep an eye on the squirrel as I pulled on the vines, when my feet slipped out from under me in the wet leaves. My right foot wedged under a root, and I felt a sickening snap. I went down, howling in pain, instantly realizing that I'd broken my leg. I don't know where the squirrel went, but I eventually struggled to my feet and realized that my lower leg had swelled so rapidly that my boot felt like a sausage casing and acted sufficiently like a splint to where I could bear a little weight on it.

Roxanne calmly sat in a nearby branch, and I called her to her lure, baited with a nice chunk of squirrel meat. I let her eat her evening meal as I thought about how I would get back to my vehicle. By slowly limping a few small steps at a time, I made the quarter-mile walk to the car with Roxy sitting on my wrist. We arrived just before dusk. I put Roxy in her box, shed my gear, and determined I could drive myself to the hospital ER without having a wreck. X-rays revealed I had snapped my fibula just above the ankle joint; the orthopedic doc set the fracture and thought it would heal with no problems. But Roxanne's falconry season was over, a few weeks before its official end. I was on the injured reserve list for six weeks at a minimum. All I could do was put her in her mews to begin her annual molt.

Next time: Injuries: An Occupational Hazard.

Until then, GO CATS!

[MrMac]

Great tale with a tough ending. Hoping for a better finish tomorrow. Go Cats!

[85Wildcatsky]

Horrible Charlotte/Davidson rain storm may hurt attendance tonight. I laughed when they canceled Charlotte/Meck school last night. I wasn't laughing mid afternoon in South Charlotte when the wind and rain was trying to blow my house over. It looks like the storm is heading right up I-77. Hopefully it will blow out.

[wildforthecats]

Yeah, most likely out for the game tonight.

[otherwildcat]

Rhode Island has a couple of decent front court players. Davidson's counterparts hopefully meet the challenge as they got pushed around a little vs Dayton.

[i77cat]

Rain is almost done. Another 0.15 inches expected. Should be finished well before the game tips.

Rose says the French Broad is headed to 30,000 cfs. Already 22k in Hot Springs, Big Laurel over 3 ft, etc.

[Dr. Bliss]

Rain is almost done. Another 0.15 inches expected. Should be finished well before the game tips.

Rose says the French Broad is headed to 30,000 cfs. Already 22k in Hot Springs, Big Laurel over 3 ft, etc.

Davidson River topped out at 8 ft. Hope it didn't mess up the fish hatchery again.

[MrMac]

Skog starting...gotta feel good about this game.

[MrMac]

Very poor shooting to start.

[MrMac]

Is it me, or is the picture much-improved tonight?

[MrMac]

Is it me, or is it very quiet in the arena (and online) tonight?

[85Wildcatsky]

Not at the arena but now online. Another slow start.

Start Durkin and Logan.

[WildCock]

Just when did this team forget how to shoot?

[i77cat]

We think we can shoot the triple. We should look at the season stats. We're chuckers.

[MrMac]

SKOG!!!