Marilyn's Crane

It's not often that I get to see a non-raptor at RAPTOR, Inc. A few nighthawks, things like that.

A few days ago, Marilyn, one of our rehabbers (who is also licensed to treat non-raptors, is a retired art teacher, and a generally neat person), got a call about a "big bird" in a bad part of town. The person reporting it also said that some neighborhood boys were throwing things at it.

When Marilyn arrived, she knew what it was.

(I love bird feet....they have never lost their reptilian roots)


Anyone want to guess the owner of this foot?



Here's Lorelei's hand next to the foot.

Give?
Okay....it was a sandhill crane.

It was a juvenile, suffering from a broken leg. A badly broken leg, with the lower leg just below the knee dangling by a thread.

Marilyn has been doing rehab basically forever, and knew this break would never heal properly. She took it immediately to one of our vets for euthanasia.

When I heard that we had a sandhill crane in the freezer, I had to have a look.



Poor sweet bird....the neck was gently folded towards the back so it could fit into our freezer.
(This bird has gone to the Cincinnati Museum Center to be added to their collection)

It was so heavy....we are used to 3 pound hawks and a big 4 1/2 pound turkey vulture. This guy felt like it weighed about 10 pounds.




I couldn't stop exclaiming how beautiful it was. And how sad it was....and how enraged I was that pissy little boys were trying to hurt it as it trembled alone in the world, left behind by its flock.

Migration is so very rough on birds...Look at the ragged edges of the feathers:




The more I think about it, the angrier I get.
I have two girls. I'm a girl. So I really don't get the mentality of human males.

WHY do boys do things like that? Is it nature? Is it nurture? What makes a little boy fry ants with a magnifying glass, or stomp bugs, or throw rocks at a sandhill crane?

I've had countless conversations with moms of boys, and they all say the same thing (and I don't buy it)...."Boys will be boys" and "It's a boy thing".
Please.

Someone explain this to me.

Local News

From the AP:

It started out as an uneventful day for two local girls today.
After visiting an older cousin at the Frisch's where she worked, the girls' mother decided to take a cute photo of them outside by the Big Boy.
The drama began when the innocuous-looking, playful statue tried to drop a large, metal hamburger on the girls.



In a uplifting display of parental love and dedication, the girls' mother kicked Mr. Big Boy in the Wedding Package, grabbed her kids and ran for it.

Big Boy was unavailable for comment.

It's fun to stay at the Y M C A .......

We joined the local YMCA as a Christmas gift for the girls, and one of the perks of a Y membership is all the classes they offer.
Both the girls are in a swimming class, and Lorelei for the first time is taking a dance class....Ballet/Tap/Jazz.
There was a scheduling snafu on Tuesday, so Lorelei took a make-up class today so she isn't behind.
Since the child dances every waking hour of her life, I knew she would do well. I was surprised at just how well she did.


There's natural grace there, but also a desperate need for more balance. You'd think, with that dinky, Italian-shaped body and its low center of gravity, she would be more stable. Like a Weeble-Wobble. But she does need to practice on keeping herself righted.



After warming up, the teacher led them through a series of "Graceful" exercises, some pantomimes like putting on rings, and make up and doing up their hair.





A chorus line!


During the hour-long class, I went to get my membership card's photo taken (UGH) and wandering around the Y....


Found this:

Look, Ruthie and Trixie! A knitting group!
(Where the Heck is Trixie, by the way?)

I saw this poster and immediately thought of some of my...ahem...more mature blogger friends:

May is "Older American" Month?
Huh. Who knew?

I have two days down on my Marathon Week, tomorrow's the last day.
While bringing the birds back yesterday, I was behind this goofy vehicle:

Read the names of the kids and the dog......

You know, some people are just begging to be slapped right in their heads.

Bleh.

I just don't even feel like blogging. I must have post-Holiday letdown or something.
Bleh.

Saturday found me at RAPTOR for a little owl parade. One of the curators? skinners?...well, I'm not sure of his exact title, but anyway....this guy from the Cincinnati Natural History and Science Museum, who collects all the bird bodies from our freezers came by to pick up what we had. A visiting family member of his is really into owls, so I perched a few out and gave a quickie talk about each one.

The nice man also said that any time I want to come and see the Museum's "collection"
(i.e. drawers and drawers of prepared bird specimens, like 41, 000 of them) to just give him a call and he could let me loose back there. I don't have the words to describe how cool that would be. They have ivory-billed woodpeckers, Carolina parakeets, Passenger pigeons and an Eskimo curlew. I think I might have just wet myself a little.
: )

A few photos of yummy birds:

(Sylvester)
It's photos like this one that make me yearn to know what our birds are thinking.

"I only put up with you because you feed me."
"I can crush your hand without batting an eye feather. Feeling lucky?"
"Yaaaawwwwwn...."


This could/should be a screensaver:

(Priscilla)


And how sisal perches work:

If you click on the photo and blow it up, you can see how those little fibers can gently and slowly wear away a bird's talons.
That's Sylvester's foot, btw.


A Sunday Sketch:

It's a harpy eagle.

Okay, stop laughing. I only had a green crayon and a blue one! And they were broken and blunt.
Everyone's a critic.

Tomorrow begins my Marathon Program Week, with three days of programs, seven programs a day. I like to talk...well, a lot...but 21 hours of talking is a challenge even for me.
Ugh.

First

Happy New Year, my little (snow)flakes!

I'm not one for big-time listing, but the day was so gorgeous I had to go out and begin the New Year with some nice birds.

I was sitting at Armleder, trying to get up the nerve to brave the cold when Kathi called. She just happened to be coming down to Armleder from the CNC, so I waited. It's always nicer to bird with a buddy.
My first bird of 2009 was a goldfinch at our feeders, but I was anxious to see my first raptor of the year.
Two marvelous red-tailed hawks wheeling overhead at the park, just as Kathi was pulling in.


Not a Big Deal bird, but beautiful nonetheless.

Second raptor of 2009 was the single Northern Harrier haunting Armleder:



(Another bird I would love to handle...the hawk who thinks it's an owl)



Kathi's dogs waited in the car while we birded...but not before greeting me with exuberance.

Holly! No nose prints on the lens!


Ever see a Rottweiler smile? Grace does it all the time. I do love that dog.



(Song Sparrow, ignoring us...)

A list of what we saw:
Red-tailed hawk
Northern Harrier
Carolina Chickadee
Tufted Titmouse
Song Sparrow
Tree Sparrow
White-throated Sparrow
American Crow
Mourning Dove
Red-Bellied Woodpecker
White-breasted Nuthatch
(Kathi's first bird of the year? A hooting Great Horned Owl at her house. Stinker.)

No lifers. No Big Deal birds. But a nice walk.

A net would have come in handy

The girls have been little couch vegetables for days, so I took them out for a bit today.

We ended up at the dog park at Armleder (are we the only people who go to dog parks without our dogs?).

We met lots of nice dogs (and a few that needed more attention from their owners...why don't people who own dogs learn about dog behavior????).

This is Greta...a perfect copy of Nellie. (a few years younger, anyway)

Acted like Nellie, too. Didn't want to venture far from her person.

This is Plato. A great thinker.

(and an Anatolian Shepherd)

This was the friendliest Great Dane we have ever come across:

The angle is a bit off in this photo, but that dog was actually taller than Lorelei.

On the way home, I saw a small bundle of rufus feathers with ears, just off the road.
Damn. It looked like a screech owl.

I did a U-turn and parked on a skinny little shoulder. Trying to think three steps ahead
(I didn't have a box with me...so I had to think about getting one at the UDF down the road....grabbing my gloves....figuring out how to hold an injured screech owl and drive at the same time...), I approached it.

It swiveled its head around, and took off across the four-lane road.
Crapcrapcrapcrapcrap.....
Well, at least now I knew it could fly.

I got back in the car and swung around and parked again. It had landed behind a fence in some shrubbery. On private property.
Crapcrapcrapcrap.....

It kept retreating deeper and deeper into the woods, and I knew I wasn't going to be able to catch it. Trespassing while running after a flighted screech owl, with two kids in tow....I like gathering blogging material as much as the next person, but...


Crapcrapcrapcrapcrap....

Well, it can fly. Its eyes were uninjured. I assume it was stunned by a car and was gathering its wits when I came along.
All we can do is wish it the best and be hopeful.

When it retreated into the underbrush, a whole bunch of blue jays noticed it and started giving it what-for. It was funny, in a sad way.

Good luck, little buddy.

(The best shot I could get, as it scurried off.)
Maybe I will start carrying a net in my car?

Species Profile: Osprey

I haven't been birding in, well, forever.
That means, it's time for a species profile!





Osprey
(Pandion haliaetus)

As its common name (fish eagle) suggests, the Osprey's diet consists almost exclusively of fish. It has evolved specialized physical characteristics and exhibits unique behaviors to assist in hunting and catching prey. Because of its unique characteristics, it has been given its own taxonomic genus, Pandion and family, Pandionidae. Four subspecies are usually recognized.









Description:

• Large raptor.
• White breast and belly.
• Black back and wings.
• Long wings, held with wingtips angled slightly backwards.(Flying "M")
  
• Dark eyestripe.
• Crown and forehead white.

• Size: 21-26 inches
• Wingspan: 59-71 inches
• Weight: 2.2 to 4 pounds
  

(Female is larger than male)





Voice:
Short, chirping whistles (kip kip kip kip...up to 20 calls in six seconds)

Habitat:
Breeds in variety of habitats with shallow water and large fish, including boreal forest ponds, desert salt-flat lagoons, temperate lakes, and tropical coasts. Winters along large bodies of water containing fish.
Osprey migrate for the winter. European osprey go to Africa, American and Canadian osprey go to South America (though some may only go as far as Florida and California), and Australasian osprey do not migrate at all.

Hunting:
Osprey dive into water feet-first to catch fish. Will often hover before taking the plunge.
(Osprey have no downy feathers, to help them dry off faster after fishing...another reason they migrate for the winter. Can't keep warm if you don't have downy feathers)
They have sharp spicules on the undersides of their feet, to better grab and hold onto slippery fish. Osprey have "closable" nostrils to keep water out of their lungs, and a special polarized lens in their eyes to aid them in looking into deep water.

When a fish is caught and the bird is flying to perch and eat, they will turn the fish so that it is facing forward, to make them more aerodynamic and reducing drag...smart birds)

Reproduction:
Osprey build a large stick nest, either on a man-made platform specifically built for that purpose, or will use telephone poles, highway signs, channel markers, etc. Nesting materials have included brush wood, sea wood, corn stalks, shingles, small floats, toy boat, eggs of sharks, old brooms, old shoes, fishing line, cans, doormats, sheep bones (especially skulls), sod with the grass still growing.

It usually takes an osprey three years to reach breeding maturity.
One to four eggs are laid and incubation lasts for about 5 weeks. Young will fledge in eight to ten weeks.






Interesting facts:

The osprey suffered greatly from the wide-spread use of DDT from the 50's through the 70's.
Through the banning of DDT, their numbers have risen, though they are still listed as endangered or threatened in some states, especially in inland states where populations were extirpated during the pesticide years.
Also detrimental to their population was the stealing of eggs by collectors and poaching.

Nisos, a king in Greek mythology, became an osprey to attack his daughter after she fell in love with Minos, the king of Crete.

Pliny the Elder wrote that adult osprey forced their young to fly into the sun, and killed the ones that failed.

There was a medieval belief that fish were so mesmerized by osprey that they would turn belly-up in surrender.

Yeats used a gray wandering osprey as a representation of sorrow in The Wandering of Oision and Other Poems.

And finally....
Susan would very much like to have an education osprey for programs.