Training on the barn owl continues. He is officially on the RAPTOR permit as an education bird, so continued training on the glove and into and out of a carrier. We have made jokes about it, but a "padded" carrier would benefit him. The LAST thing we want is to open that wound again.
Volunteers are the life-blood of non-profit organizations. People are here to help. And help they do. They donate their time, their energy, their love.
Dan is a long-time volunteer at RAPTOR. He's been there forever. I walked over to Earl's cage and peeked in. Dan was wearing a face mask.
"What in the Hell is that on your face, Dan? Is Earl extra stinky today or something?"
Turns out that Dan is allergic to something at RAPTOR.
And yet, there he was.
Posed for me and everything.
A new volunteer is learning to handle the birds.
This is Bob....with my Lucy. And he did very well, and she responded to him very well. Good. Maybe I will get help with programs soon. Don't get me wrong, I love doing programs. But the hard work before and after them (jessing up the birds, loading the birds into their carriers, loading the carriers into the car, unloading the carriers at the program, and then reversing the whole process afterwards)...well, it's tiring. The gravy is the actual program.
Speaking of programs: If you are in the Bethel, Ohio area tomorrow, come and see me at the Bethel Founder's Day festival at Burke Park. I'm going to be on the "Pioneer Stage" at 2 pm.
We haven't had the baby ratlettes on a post in a whole day, so here's four of them in a row:
Oh, they are so perfect against that pink blanket.
And look out. Baby rat ears, eyes and lips:
And let's not forget those perfect, claw-tipped feets.
After sending a pitiful email to Kathi, she magnanimously agreed to go birding with me today, so we hit the CNC.
Why dead things are attracted to me, I'll never know. Crossing the road to get to the meadow, we found a piece of dead stuff.
We thought it was a snake and I of course picked it up.
But then I saw hair:
A possum tail, no longer attached to the possum.
And it went downhill from there.
Only at Magee Marsh can I see birds with Kathi. Everywhere else, it's a crap shoot.
*Okay, I am totally kidding here, so please don't think I hate the woman or that we really don't see birds. It's just become our thing to taunt each other about who jinxes us on bird walks. Since I post more than she does, I get to point the finger at her.*
And speaking of pointing fingers, here's Kathi, pointing at nothing:
At least she is a good sport about being a total poser.
The last bird we got for the day was a Great Crested Flycatcher. And I found it. SEE?
Told you it wasn't me.
A video of us not seeing birds:
7 comments:
I don't even hear any birds, Susan!
Laura:
See?? See????? I'm here to tell ya. There are NEVER any birds.
: )
It's not a good day when it goes downhill from holding a dismembered and dessicated possum tail. Ewwwww!
Love them ratties though.
A) We saw and heard about 1000 Indigo Buntings. Where are their pictures?
B) I took you to places where I have seen and heard Blue-winged Warblers, Common Yellowthroats, Bluegray Gnatcatchers, Yellow-breasted Chats, and Henslow's Sparrows in the past. I can't help it if they weren't there!
C) I was pointing at the place where we BOTH agreed there must be a chat, even though we never saw it.
D) We were making Cape May plans.
E) We saw plenty of Leps and Odes.
F) It WAS 2:30 in the afternoon.
G) We had a trip list of close to 20 species, so it wasn't a total bust, now, was it?
Them's my excuses, and I'm sticking with them.
{BIG WINK AT SUSAN}
~Kathi, defending her birding honor
PS: If you want to see Susan scream like a little girl, throw a cicada on her!
Liza:
Yeah, it was pretty gross.
Kathi:
Okaaaaaaay. UNCLE.
Touche.
BIRDS ARE NAPPING AT 2:30 P.M., SUSAN!
Why didn't you track down and photograph a Cicada, Susan? Huh?
Kathi's no jinx and neither are you.
I wanna be the newbe (Bob) holding Lucy :o(
I caught a cicada for Niki yesterday and she screamed like a little Susan, ran about ten yards, and refused to come near me until I put him back on the tree.
*snicker* You'll pick up coyote poop, detached possum tails, and god knows what else, but you're afraid of cicadas? Sheesh.
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