In Game: vs. Richmond

[raptorcat]

Chapter 14 of The Falconry Chronicles: The Lazarus Squirrel

One of my reliable sources for locations to hunt with Roxanne was Steedman Lyles '79. On many occasions, he accompanied me on trips to the Lake Campus or to one of several properties he knew of in the Davidson area. At various times, his wife Cissy '79, daughter Betsy, or son George would come along as well. Roxanne never minded performing in front of a crowd, so long as they weren't dogs or other large four-legged animals like cows, horses, or goats in the vicinity. The Lake Campus was always fun because in the winter months, we had the place all to ourselves and it was a target-rich environment. My only worry was that if we got close to the shore, Roxanne might spy a bushytail on the other side of Lake Norman, go after it, and then we couldn't get to her without a long, panic-inducing search. (Fortunately, this never occurred.)

One place Steedman found for us was some mixed acreage off Grey Road. We arrived on a late afternoon Friday and the owner met us at the start of the hunt and invited us to stay for a beer after Roxanne had done her thing. I was particularly interested in this invite, not only for the beer but because he had a large metal building that housed an extensive collection of vintage muscle cars.

I got Roxanne out of her travel box and threw her into a nearby sweetgum tree. Normally, she politely waited for me to get my game bag strapped on and tinker around in the back of my SUV. The closure of the SUV's back gate was her signal to start looking for targets. But this time, she spotted a squirrel almost immediately and was in pursuit almost before we could get underway. In five minutes, she had it in her talons, with one foot gripping the head to keep it from biting (an ever-present threat) and the other foot around its throat. Hawks instinctively grip the prey in such a manner that it constricts the critter's airway; in the constant battle between predator and prey in the wild, suffocation only takes a minute or two and serves as a cruelty-free way to end the squirrel's life.

As Steedman and I waited for the squirrel to expire and to allow Roxanne's adrenaline rush to subside, I began thinking about that beer and how good it would taste. In retrospect, I probably should waited a bit longer, but the squirrel appeared dead to me; I got Roxy to trade off the squirrel by tossing her a mouse a few feet away from the squirrel while I held it firmly by the tail. Knowing how the game was played, she abandoned the squirrel and gobbled up the treat while I put the limp squirrel in my game bag. I then gathered Roxy up and put her back in her travel box, ready for that beer and the tour of the antique car collection. The whole endeavor had taken fifteen minutes, at most.

After the tour and a frosty (or two), I made the hour and fifteen minutes drive back to High Point. I always parked in the back of my house, closest to Roxanne's mews, and in keeping with Mrs. Raptorcat's firm rule that the hawk was not to come into the house, no matter how briefly. At that time, our family was blessed with a wonderful dog, a black-and-white fifty-pound pit bull mix named Winston; I had rescued him as a pup while on a fishing trip and when the family was trying to come up with a name, I assigned the task to my youngest son. (He struggled with the assignment, so I showed him a list of the 100 most common dog names that I'd gotten off the internet. By the time he got to the end, he realized he still hadn't hit upon a name and just picked the one alphabetically at the end of the list.) Winston was enthusiastic about everything, but he got particularly excited when I came home after a hunt because it usually meant that a dead squirrel was in my game bag.

I lifted the gate of my SUV and Winston put his paws atop the back bumper, quivering with excitement. When I opened the game bag, the squirrel came to life and jumped out, surprising the bejeezus out of me. It leapt over the cargo hold and into the back seat, with Winston in hot pursuit. The chase continued into the front seat and settled into a brief struggle in the driver's side floorboard, reminiscent of one of those Warner Bros. cartoons where the combatants are depicted as a whirlwind of movement, with floorboard dust and leaves swirling about. Winston suddenly stopped, looking frantically about. Where'd it go? The squirrel had vanished without a trace; I knew it hadn't gotten past me at the open door, but there was no sign of it. Winston's nose was confused; he could still smell the squirrel, but where was it? I looked about. It wasn't under the seat or behind the floor pedals. The damn thing was simply ... gone.

The next day, a Saturday, I drove it to the dealership. They were familiar with Roxanne and the whole concept of falconry because I'd taken her there once to show her off the salesmen and technicians. They were sympathetic and diligently began to remove panels in front, exposing parts of the SUV I'd never seen before. Pretty soon, it looked as though most of the SUV's interior was spread out on the shop floor; but alas, no squirrel. They saw evidence of squirrel tail hairs behind one of the control panels, but nothing else. They put everything back together and said if it showed up, let them know if they could be of further help. I thanked them and drove home.

I didn't drive the vehicle again until Sunday evening. We always had my 95-year-old mother over for dinner on Sunday evenings, and Mrs. Raptorcat picked her up at the assisted living facility. My job was to drive her back. But when I opened the front passenger side door to let her in, she exclaimed, "Well, look here, there's a squirrel asleep on the seat." Sure enough, the squirrel was curled up like it was taking a nap, but it was cold to the touch, and rigor mortis had set in. I once again put the squirrel in my game bag and started the car. But although it would crank and go into gear, that's about all it would do. The power steering was dead and all lights, both exterior and exterior, were out. The critter had been busy before it shuffled off this mortal coil; it had chewed through several wires behind the control panels.

Another trip to the dealership; the bemused technicians fixed all the chewed-up wires and charged me $600. Fortunately, my car insurance paid for it under my comprehensive coverage, less the $150 deductible. When I called in the claim, the lady adjuster said not to worry; they were used to claims of policyholders whose vehicles suffered damage from rodents getting in and wreaking havoc on the wiring. I decided not to confuse her with all the details, particularly the part about my intentionally placing a comatose squirrel in my SUV without making sure it was well and truly dead.

And now, GO CATS!

Next time: Roxanne Goes Free.

[MrMac]

Should have gotten one of these:

[JCDC]

slim odds for this game, we're favored by 1.5 but the percentage that ESPN shows is skewed heavily toward the bad guys.

[85Wildcatsky]

Go Cats!

I was going to go to the arener today but I was coming off a head cold and figured I shouldn't risk getting sick again or spreading my bug.

Too darn cold outside.

Hopefully that Cats can play a complete game today.

[MrMac]

Present. Go Cats!!!

[MrMac]

Teams are going to press and overplay us, until we make them pay.

[MrMac]

Logan pushes Quinn off the court. Wirey.

[MrMac]

Partial nutmeg on the assist by Bailey to Logan. Love to see the big men passing to one another. That one was ugly, but it ended well.

[MLC67]

They can’t miss, we can’t make. No recipe for success.

[raptorcat]

I had to attend a funeral this afternoon that kept me from getting on the road in time for the tip-off, so I'm watching it at home. Pull 'em through!

[85Wildcatsky]

This Davidson team has had a tough time making a move to get a good shot. Richmond is making it even tougher.

Durkin needs to look to score first and work the offense second. The system is taking him right out of the offense.

[WildCock]

Bally Sports South having frequent (but short) episodes of "Technical Difficulties."

[MrMac]

Go Hunter!

[bvgerd]

Good response after the time out!!! Were struggling to get easy looks against richmonds defense, but a great job getting a shot clock violation on defense with the Spadone block.

[85Wildcatsky]

Bally Sports South having frequent (but short) episodes of "Technical Difficulties."

ESPN+ is perfect.

I like their Progressive commercials too, "How to not become your parents" It hits home when you are in your sixties.