All worked out well, but when I tossed them in their tractor today, they ran around, flapped their wings and chirped for joy. They flapped and stretched, and ran all over the place. I put 2 round sticks on the first red brace. They seemed to enjoy racing up the stick or hopping over it. They can walk on the red braces like balance beams and easily fly over them too. We fed them blueberries and called "Here girls" as we poked a berry through the net. I think it's more the fingers through the net that gets them excited than the "here girls".
A couple have discovered how to use the small-mammal drinking bottle. They stick their beaks right up the tube, pushing the ball aside and letting the water drip down their throats. I painted the tube-end with nail polish to help catch their attention. The bottle would have made life much easier in the car but they hadn't figured it out yet. Of course, once one learns something the rest bombard her for lessons. We caught a couple of nice soft grasshoppers: chaos reigned. The chicklet that caught the grasshopper ran all over the tractor, showing off or maybe trying to keep her catch. Everyone else tore after her to grab it away, stepping on sisters, flapping over crowds to catch up, or simply to see what the ruckus is all about. The poor grasshopper changed beaks 4 or more times on a typical race, much the worse for wear.
When I called them, "Hey, girls" to go in for the night, some actually came to me. When I put the first several back in their overnight tub they immediately scratched the dust all over themselves, dust bath-like. We're using the water bottle hanging from the side now instead of the water dish. One daring chick preferred not to be caught. She stayed just out of fingers' reach, crying loudly for her sisters. I finally lured her in with a blueberry. I wonder if Tyson or the Colonel know this trick.
While we were gone something big and/or persistent ate and/or dragged away all the bones from all 4 of the carcasses we had at the bait shoppe by the Toy Shed. The last groundhog should have been nicely cooked and easily tracked by nose by now, but it was nowhere to be found. Even the bones of the older kills were gone. The game camera shot this coyote on Friday and several raccoons and lots of crows and vultures on Saturday and Sunday morning. Persistence is the name I guess.
While surveying for gypsy moth egg cases along the eastern Lower Jennifer Trail, we flushed 3 ruffed grouse. As usual, we were as startled by their noise as they were by ours.
