Anyone Want A Magpie ....?

Damndest thing. I'd been watching a robin hopping around the perimeter of my aviary for some time now. Obviously looking for scraps of minced meat slung out by the magpies. Hopefully more savvy than to have ventured in through the little hole the Dogs have scratched out there, after the same thing.

Poor little wren did that. I thought the male bird had the robin at first. When I went out there, the poor little bundle of feathers was a wren. Sans head. that's nature for ye. 'Pies are captive and can't impinge on the wider environment. So, what does the fucking wren do ....? Darwin Award!

Anyway, it was that robin that got me thinking I should let it have a little peck of that good meat. I knew, if I put a bit on the ground, where he haunted, the Dogs would snaffle it. So, I started putting a pinch on a fence post, beside the aviary.

In no time, it was being gone by the time I got off my back. But, something started clicking that this meat always went between nightfall and noon. I started wondering about rodents. Maybe just because those fuckers are never far from my mind?

So, I kept putting this pinch of meat out and waiting for the robin. Nuffn. Yet, it even started disappearing between noon and evening. Without me so much as spotting the robin. What the .....

And there I am. Stood right there in my window. Looking at that blob of meat on the fence post top. I'm literally thinking; " I wonder what the fuck's taking that ..... " Swoop! Flash! Gone! The most immaculate, male magpie! Muvva fukka just came down from the right. Hit the post. Peck. 'Thankyou!' Exit, stage right. Wow!

Of course, I could take him. Dead or alive. In minutes. Mag's are a piece of piss to catch. Hardly a challenge, is it? Nor is this bird a threat. He'll just be picking off carrion and anything that Needs to be removed from the pool.

So; There he is. Dean O's mentioned how he'd like a mag' or two. I asked him if he wanted this one. He asked where he'd keep it. I said " Build it a fucking flight cage?! ". Dean O' didn't answer.

He's up for grabs. I can take him any time. You can have him. But; First I want convincing that ye have suitable accommodation for him. And that ye'll care for him like any other POW deserves to be looked after. In fact, he'll need treating like a pet. Fed. Watered. Cared for and respected. Any takers?

£10 says he'll still be accepting my pinch of meat, off that fence post, come next 'spring'. (Natural death for either of us notwithstanding). Because no fucker has it worked out.

Fascination With The Enemy .....

Well, this aviary's proven worth every day of a life times ambition to own one! I have it sited right outside the window I'm sat beside. Thus I have only to look left and there it is, about fifteen foot away. And I expect this damn post will take me 'for ever' to write because of it; I just can't keep my eyes off that damn aviary!

Sadly, " Peck, Peck " simply couldn't acclimatise in there. Too much space? What ever. He was rough as fuck ~ a really dirty, shabby ball of feathers ~ by the time the damn thing actually got here. He was a Dead, dirty, shabby ball of feathers inside of forty eight hours. Poor little mite.

I genuinely feel the absolutely constant, torrential rains we've been having since ..... well, since I can remember, in all honesty. I feel the weather put paid to him. Having now observed my remaining bird, and considered the wider environment? I'm seriously wondering what effect all this has been having on the wild population of magpies around here too.

See, I'm now in the privileged situation where by I'm able to closely observe my birds every reaction to a variety of subtle stimuli. Most especially, any 'change' in the weather. And, for the purposes of my own little bit of 'rough science', I feel this bird is a recent enough capture to still be exhibiting the most natural of responses.

Frankly; Ye should see that bird when it's chucking it down like stair rods out there! He creeps in under his little slate lean too and just sits there. A perfect picture of misery and dejection. That's when I watch him and expect I'll lose him too.

But when, like right now, we have a rare break in the down pours? What a different bird! Out he comes. Hops up onto one of the lower perches. Flies about between the higher ones. Preens like mad and has a good feed. Earlier, to my amazement and delight, he even took a damn good bath in his water bowl!

Right now, having done all that, he's sat on the corner shelf I put in there. And that's at the perfect height to allow him to watch what's going on, across the hedge there. So, this bird's displaying an interest in life and a fastidious predilection with personal grooming. Just as any healthy bird should, indeed must.

But, let's look again: When the rains hit, my bird has a completely water proof shelter. He stays bone dry, yet just the situation clearly depresses him. How about a wild bird, hunkering down in a tree? Depressed. Unable to feed. Still getting more or less rained on too. That'd make him cold, and a cold bird needs to eat. Not in the cold rain .....

And, comes that break in the weather? My bird needs only skip over to his food bowl. It's all there. Laid on and waiting for him. No need to search, thus using up yet more sparse energy reserves. Not like his wild brethren.

In fact, that is one Lucky Magpie. His every comfort is assured. He only needs to keep his own spirits up, against this chilling, cold, damp and depressing weather. I'm doing my best to help him. No one's going to help the wild ones.

And ye know what? There barely are any wild ones around here nowadays! I watched them breed. I saw them fledge. Now they've all simply vanished. My whole area is pretty much devoid of wild pies right now. And, it wasn't me!

See what I'm saying ....?

" Sam's Sanctuary "

Well; Here it is, folks:

And, by the time ye hear from me again, my two little POW's should be in there. Only, right now, they're getting on with their last night in the Larsen Trap they've called home since god knows when.

That old trap's served me well. Dean O' gave it to me, a couple of years ago now. But, having two magpies living in it ~ and pecking the shit out of it! ~ for half that time's really rather taken its toll on the poor old thing. Despite my own best efforts with a fresh coat of paint and a stretch of new wire, last year.

So, I think I'll buy a sheet of 1" square, steel mesh and make myself a new, all steel, one for next 'season'. Lighter. Stronger. Unpeckable. Drop of juncus cammo paint and ..... well; I might even make two or three! Maybe knock up some seperate 'Call Bird' Cages. We'll see.

Meanwhile, that's " Sam's Sanctuary ". It's called that in honour of an e mailed conversation I had with a young friend of mine; Sam, incredibly enough. I can hardly remember how it all went odd now. But I Do remember that Sam somehow inspired the idea in me that I might build my POW's a proper aviary.

I remember getting all excited about the fact that just owning an aviary has been a life long dream of mine. Would ye believe that, eh? Whole damn life. All I ever wanted was an aviary. Birds have always fascinated me, one way or another. Knowing about them led to catching them. But I usually caught them for other people. And those bastards had aviarys!

Well, now I have one. So there! LOL! And that's it. Six foot high. Four foor wide. Eight foot long. My POW's won't fucking know themselves! And this is the bastard that one poor bird died of old age, waiting for. Subject of a post below. And, if ye don't know what I'm talking about? Go and start at the beginning of this damn Blog and read ye way through, as one should! I promise ye I'll type shit far slower than ye can read it.

I must say; This thing's far removed from the " Sam's Sanctuary " envisaged on that night. My original plan was 'just' to pin some netting between some of my trees. (Yes; I own a small stand of mature trees. Eat ye fucking heart out!) But, you just try checking out the cost of eighteen square foot of anything! Even half decent plastic mesh. It's shuddering!

So, along with many other, practical considerations, I thought I'd go for a more traditional thing. Thought I'd build one myself. Or, at least, have a frame work built for me. And, again, priced myself right out of the market. I couldn't even buy the damn materialds for that the above cost me.

And now, there it is. In my compound. Right across from this window. It arrived, on a pallet, this morning. By this afternoon I had it all bolted together and was off into town to buy some finishing touches. Ye can't see them. Because they ammount to three sheets of perspex. They're fitted to the top corner. Give the birds somewhere to roost, protected from the prevailing winds and rains.

All it needs now is a few sprays of fir tree branches, to give my birds somewhere to feel hidden. And a signalled tunnel trap along the outside, to take care of anything, ground level, that comes to visit and inspect them. Sort that out tomorrow and " Sam's Sanctuary " should be all go.

Magpies; Curious Things .....

My old bird was finally off his perch, this morning. No surprise. No regrets. No heads hung in sorrow and mourning.

Not because he was 'Just' a magpie. A piece of vermin. A worthless egg thief. Because he wasn't. He was none of those things. Not for the better part of a year, at least. Because that's how long he'd been with me. As one of my little Prisoners Of War. And, as such, he'd received the very best of treatment. That's why he lasted so long.

Anyway, if ye want to read about my POW's origins, look it up on here. I introduced them some time ago. And this was the older of the two birds. I believe a parent to the one I kept in the trap compartment of my Larsen, having caught that one second.

I'd known the older bird was going, for some time now. He'd got shabby. Shabby as fuck, in fact. Quite disgusting, really. Wouldn't have survived like it, in the wild. His feathers were all dirty and loose hanging. Even his wings tended to droop, of late. Ye don't see birds like that in the wild state. Not twice ye don't. One of his toes had curled up. Right fucking mess he was in. It was only his effortless life of luxury that kept him going.

Sheltered from every element. Protected from predators. Fed like a God. All he had to do was wake up. Await his feeding. Eat. Sit watch the world go by ~ warning other maggies that this was his patch. Then settle down for the night. Last nights kip will never end for him.

Never mind. I still have the youngster. The one I caught with him as Call Bird. I imagine this is one of his brood. And the young 'ns as tight feathered, bright and bouncy as a magpie should be. And how she screamed when I caught her up today! Screeched blue murder, as I put my hand in there and caught her by the leg. Couldn't catch much else at that angle. Soon made sure I got a more comfortable and less, potentially, injurous grip on her body.

I wanted to put her into the big, double 'Call Bird' compartment, see? Give her the bigger cage now. Popped her in there and was thoroughly amused to see her bopping about all over the place for hours afterwards. Exploring all this new room to move about in. Obviously loving it too. Good. Happy bird.

Of course, I realised I'd have to catch a fresh one now. Company ~ through the mesh, of course ~ for her. And a back up for me. I figured I'd get round to that. Other things on my plate just now. I had a project to do, on here. That took me from about 14:00 to 17:00. Then I had to sort my horses out. Finally settling down to consider a spin of the Play Station by 18:00.

And that's when I happened to glance out and see a splendid looking 'pie flying off my front gate. " That'll do me. ", I thought. And I went out, up the ladder and set the trap. Fiddly business, hanging over the top of a ladder as I was. But, I did my best. Dropped a ball of minced beef in there. Then I rejoined my oppo's in the fantasy SAS and went off and won yet another battle in the war torn Kuwait of PS2 land.

22:00 tonight, I just let the Dogs out and glanced up at the trap. Couldn't see fuck all in the dark. That niggled me, so I came in and got my torch. Just as I'd suspected; Fucking thing had fired off, due to the bouncing around of the youngster there. Thinking on how a fired on empty trap catches nothing, I resignedly climbed the ladder.

Fuck me! That was fast! Two for breakfast then .....

My Little POW's

It was back in October of 2008. Over seven months ago now then, that I caught a magpie, alive, somewhat by accident ~ and no small miracle. I don't want to go into the details here of how that came about. But it led to the story I'm about to relate.

See, finding this hapless bird in the most - for him - unfortunate circumstances and completely at my mercy, I actually stopped and considered the situation. Rather, that is, than automatically and without thinking, knocking him on the head.

Look at it from my point of view. It was October. Not a lot of nests active at that time of year. So he couldn't be up to much mischief. Fact that he was caught while picking over old chicken bones in my compost box rather proved what his existence was like at that approach to winter. And, anyway, he wasn't a Job. No body had noticed him. He hadn't been bothering anyone. There was nothing in it for me.

Upshot was, I took him in as a Prisoner Of War. He was, after all, the enemy. It would've seemed worse by far, to me, to have let him go free than to have knocked him off. Do that and I'd likely only end up killing him in the spring or summer anyway. Besides which, I'm far from a teenage kiddie with everything to prove to everyone. I have my own mind and that mind said to do as I did.

So it was he came to be transferred to my Larsen Trap (For a bloody good article on these things, which I just happened to stumble across, go have a look at this; Larsen Traps)

I set the trapping compartments, more or less as a matter of course. But, also to see what might happen. See, most people consider there to be a 'season' for Larsen trapping magpies. Spring and summer. I fancied trying out a little experiment.

Guess what? I had another one in days! I left that one in the trap too. Gave it a water drinker and started feeding them both their daily ration of a slightly less than golf ball sized portion of fresh, minced beef.

Then, sadly, inside a week my first one died. I suspect it was the shock of his mode of capture. Perhaps he'd sustained some physical injury that didn't show? Anyway, he fell off his perch, poor old thing. So I transferred the newer bird to the decoy section and got on with my life. For a couple of days or so. Then I caught another!

Now, let me tell ye; There's something rather endearing about these intelligent and soon to become trusting little birds. Take them out of the wider environment and what are they? Gone is the infuriating vision of merciless nest robbers. There's no primal challenge of the sly and sneaking target. They become, I can assure ye, just rather pretty and amusing little things who want nothing more than their breakfast each and every day.

Just to underline here; Magpies like to eat meat. It's the best - if not only - way we can provide their 'natural' diet (unless we intend to go about catching bugs and grubs for them on a gargantuan scale of time and effort!) Furthermore, they Must be fed Every Single Day, without fail. Miss a day? Bird dies. Simple as that.

I've also gone to extreme lengths to keep them protected from the prevailing elements. The trap is wrapped up against the winds and rains. But I've fitted a perspex sheet to the sunny side, so they can enjoy the light, without the rougher weather getting to them. They can't go hide in a birch tree, after all.

So, anyway, there they are. Hopping about in their Larsen Trap, up on my flat porch roof. They've been there for months now and are perfectly happy. They haven't a care in the world and they don't need to work for a living, nor fear being shot as they try to do so. And I'm honestly rather fond of them too. Every day I come up my ladder calling, " Hullo, birds! Here's ye breakfast. " And I check them over as I pop their balls of beef in for them. I'd miss it, if anything happened to them.

Of course, I dare say some of ye may be sitting there thinking; " Oh, come on, Ditch! Ye say ye fond of them, yet ye committing them to a dreary life inside a pokey little Larsen Trap?! " Fair point. Only ye see, I've been busy. Extremely busy. I've had a seemingly endless stream of things to do around here. But now I'm working my way through my 'next jobs'.

Here's my next 'next job'. I've been in touch with Sales and hope to have one shipped over here any time now. I look after my creatures. They'll have one of These.

Here's one of my little mates, look (Click for full picture);