Author: kakymc

For several days, this has been the routine:

Kennon releases the osprey from the mews and the bird flies to his tripod perch, then Kennon takes the golf cart to the upper lake. From there, he whistles for Orville: one whistle every few seconds means “come here, there is a tidbit on the perch” while two quick whistles mean “come to the glove for a whole fish.” Orville knows the difference. If Kennon uses the single whistle call, the bird leisurely takes off and soars upwards, eventually cruising to the upper lake where he circles the water with his head bent, hunting, but usually with no successful dives. He soon lands on the roof-top perch on the golf cart for the tidbits. Sometimes he flies back to the lower lake and sits on his tripod perch. The whole process can be repeated several times. With emphatic two-whistles-at-a-time calling, he will fly directly to the glove (with its whole fish), and the session is over.

But last Monday afternoon, the osprey was circling high above the water, and suddenly wheeled over and dove near the far shore. He emerged clutching a small bream between his talons! He circled and then flew south, landing on his perch at the lower lake. Kennon moseyed toward him, intending to trade off the bream for a fish from the freezer. He got within a foot and watched him eat, but as he moved in to retrieve the fish, Orville would have none of it. He took to the air with his prize and landed on the telephone pole near the house. Orville remained at that safe distance until he’d eaten half his catch. Surprisingly, he then flew down to the glove clutching his half-eaten fish.

Today was a good day. After months of intense peeping, wing-flapping, and refusing to dive for fish, Orville took the plunge.

We’re not sure why, but he refuses to dive in the lower lake. Maybe it’s the glut of turtles or the territorial, breeding Canada geese. Whatever the case, if the bird flies out of the mews and immediately takes a bath, he’ll return to his perch and refuse to hunt. This happens more often than not.

We had to change a few things to encourage him. First, we hid. While Orville sat on his perch, begging insistently as we sat nearby on the swing, we got up, went inside the house, and watched him through the sunroom windows. When he could no longer see us, he focused on the water and started scanning.

Second, Kennon limited his food. Kennon had not been weighing him, choosing instead to keep him heavy for the winter months. But with temperatures rising to the balmy low 70s, he began feeding him a little less at mealtime. Today, Orville weighed 1390 g.

Third, we changed location. We have three lakes on our property, and Orville’s “home” perch is on the lower lake. But the upper lake has fish in plenty and fewer turtles. This week, the bream were popping the surface, making circular ripples, so that’s where Kennon took the bird. And…success! No, Orville didn’t catch a fish, but he tried, and that’s progress.

Update: Since I wrote the above (and delayed posting it), Orville has dived several times into the upper lake. And yesterday, while we were fishing, Kennon was reeling in a catch when Orville spotted it from his golf cart perch and dove for it. He flew off the water, the line broke, and he headed for the lower lake with the bream headfirst in his talons. We hopped on the golf cart and rushed after him, but we needn’t have worried about the hook and spinner: Orville had removed them and tossed them on the ground before he started eating. Good bird!

You can find a collection of clips here at our youtube channel: https://youtu.be/O3l4amibuEM.

Many thanks to Ben Woodruff for reviewing our book. You’ll find his video here: https://youtu.be/NsPdB1N2GzQ.

Orville had an adventure today. Kennon took him out to fly, and the bird dove into the lake for a quick bath. While he was enjoying his soak, a bald eagle swooped down toward him, coming within fifty feet before pulling up. This has happened before.

The osprey flew off the water and the eagle chased him. He circled overhead, the eagle close behind, and then the osprey landed in the pasture west of the lake. When the eagle saw Kennon and Daniel, our son, standing on the shore, he gave up the chase and flew north. Orville returned to the yard and promptly dove on Daniel, who was holding the evil black camera, missing him by a foot.

A case of the bullied becoming the bully? Probably not, since Orville has shown a disregard for that Sony camera in the past. He probably sees it–as well as the eagle–as an existential threat.

I’m not wild about spraying poison in my house. But here in the Deep South, ants come in droves and consider themselves entitled to my sunroom. That’s why I hired the Pest Control Man.

He came the other day while Kennon was flying the osprey in windy conditions. Orville soared above the house, dove, and made a low pass about twelve feet away from the man with the long wand. Later, he perched on the utility pole and growled.

Orville has shown this same dislike of strangers when my parents came. He circled above the house, growling, then he perched on the utility pole and fussed at their white Honda Pilot. Then he fussed at them as they walked on the driveway.

Is this a territory issue? Did he see these people as threats? Or is it because he doesn’t like unfamiliar people in his environment? Kind of like he didn’t like Kennon’s change of hats?

Speaking of hats, he attacked Kennon’s feet the other day when he stepped into the mews. Orville grabbed his athletic shoes, poked a hole through the fabric top with his talons, and scratched Kennon’s toe. Kennon couldn’t understand this hostile behavior until he realized he was wearing the hated orange beanie.

It turns out Orville is particular about hats.

Kennon usually wears a camouflage outback hat when he’s dealing with the osprey. But last December, he changed his headgear, never suspecting Orville would have an opinion on the matter. On that day, he wore an orange beanie. Orville responded by snatching the beanie from his head during a flyby. We assumed he objected to the color, if not the style.

Cooler weather set in this week, so when it was time to put Orville on the glove, Kennon grabbed a black baseball cap instead of the usual camo. The bird flew off his arm, flicked off the cap, and scratched Kennon’s head. Kennon laid the cap on a bench outside the mews, and Orville circled by and eyed it. Then he dove into the lake and took a bath.

Several months ago, a young girl and her mother came to see the osprey. Orville was less than polite, repeatedly growling at the girl. We wondered if her pink hoodie was the trigger for his rudeness.

Another item which makes him hostile is the black camera. Every time our son aims the long lens at him, he growls. Perhaps he mistakes it for a black bird, such as a crow or cormorant. Maybe the black cap and the camera remind him of eagles. But we can’t explain why he hates the bright orange beanie. Or the pink hoodie. Unless Orville is afraid of flamingos.

Yes, we have a turtle problem.

The Falconer’s wife here with a quick update.

We’ve mentioned before that Slider Turtles are in abundant supply in our lake. Kennon believes they are discouraging the osprey from diving on fish. Orville sits on his perch and hunts, bobbing his head from side to side, but he hesitates to dive these days.

This is the routine: Orville perches next to the lake, Kennon tosses out fish food, and the bream and catfish come to eat as expected. But so do legions of turtles, which vary in size from four inches to a foot in diameter. They snatch up fish pellets and crowd the water like obnoxious, slow-motion shoppers at Walmart on Black Friday.

Even hunting Orville from the opposite shore doesn’t work–as Kennon makes his way around the lake, the turtles only follow him.

Kennon once netted thirty of these freeloaders, placed the writhing horde in metal tubs, and drove them down the highway to the river. For a while, that seemed to help.

Judging from the mob that arrives at feeding time, however, they have recouped their population. Or maybe they called in reinforcements from nearby lakes.

Perhaps a larger purge would do the trick? Or another lake altogether.