And yes I WAS calling myself The Falconer, and yes I WAS singing Free Bird.
You can go ahead and judge me for that one.
So I loaded up the dog and the falcon into the Jeep and gave that bird a good talking to.
Teva kept looking at me like: MOM! There is a Bird of Prey in the back of the Jeep!!
(ok, so it's really hard to see, but the Falcon is in the cage) So I drove a few towns over, far far away from their house and found a nice field to release into.....a nice field that backed another house with bird feeders in it to help entice the new location. He flew right out when I opened the cage....caught some air and looped around. Hum. I thought to myself. He's coming back. Oh god, he's dropping down.
So I opted NOT to take a picture of his graceful release and run back to the car just in case his intention was to peck my eyes out.
And THAT is the story of the Falconer.
4 comments:
You are my hero. Now, how are you at rehoming cats?
Well done and well told, Grasshopper! I think he was just giving you a "tip of the wings, flying low" like the pilots used to give over the base before heading out to a duty assignment. Here's hoping he DOESN'T miss Mrs. Ponch's fine, fine tasting feathered friends and meets a nice lady hawk in his new neighborhood for good measure. Safe journey to the falcon and hats off to you, Rescue Ranger.......
Hey Minn,
I used to drive a Falcon that was fast enough to knock a house off its foundation when I ran into it... Does that count for anything?
Yes, Poppy, that counts for a head injury, and some missing cash from Grandpa's pocket as the cop looked the other way and you got shuffled out of there.
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