Pale Male or 08-135? Fourth of July Part I and Sally's Question

Pale Male or 08-135? Which is better?

I had made the comment in a previous post that if a bird I was reading about had a name I became more invested in following what happened to that individual bird. (In fact, I'd begin to feel guilty if I didn't.)

Sally left this comment on the post:

Interesting thought, about naming the birds. I guess it does bring us closer to them somehow, in some personal way we "know" them better if they have a name.

Although I think I had the same feelings for Houston 1,2 and 3 as for "Hous", even Riverside 1 or Cathedral 2 is more personally identifying than A217 or 08-135, as we identify our rehab birds here. Once they have a name, though, they are more like our family, and we do seem to take a more personal interest in them.

Would the public at large care more about our endangered creatures if we named them?

My answer? Absolutely! It's been proven. Back in the days when scientists were having lab rats run through mazes to see how long it took for them to learn the maze and how fast they could then negotiate it, there was a variation done in which graduate students thought it was the rats who were being tested but in reality it was the graduate students who were being evaluated.

Here's how it worked. The lead scientist would come in to lecture the students on how the maze trial was to be executed. All of which was introduced as if that was the experiment, but in the midst of showing an example, the mice cages were in view. All the rats had their own little cages marked with their individual letters and numbers. One cage had it's individual identifying notation plus an add on, a name--"Pee Wee".

Periodically the grad students came in and had the mice run the maze and notated the results, but unbeknownst to them there was a hidden camera scrutinizing their behavior.

It was noted that the students over time would give Pee Wee little nudges to get him started in a timed trial and other slight interferences that would help Pee Wee "win", ie., do better than the other rats.

Not only did Pee Wee have a name but it was an identiying name for an underdog rat and there was some thought that the grad students being grad students, and grad school being horrendously competive, and most people secretly living in fear of failure, they particularly related to Pee Wee and wanted him to succeed, as they hoped they would. I do like physically or at least geographically hooked names the best. They help people who drop by to look at the hawks know which one they are looking at.

For instance one season, there was an eyass at the Cathedral who was darker than the others and I believe Rob Schmunk may have started calling him Brownie. People then could individualize which eyass Brownie was by looking and could follow what he did specifically. Then when they saw him on another day they recognize him and enjoyed stopping and paying attention to him as an individual. They began to care much more about the hawks and Brownie in particular.

Now there is no question that Pale Male is a stunningly charismatic Red-tail with an individualizing pale head which makes him easier to identify than if he were more similarly colored to his mates. But I warrant that if he had been called 08-135 instead of Marie Winn's identifying brilliant stroke of a name Pale Male, we'd have heard much less about him. And of course Marie's wonderful book RED-TAILS IN LOVE didn't hurt one bit nor did his choice of real estate. Lets face it fame is the product of numerous variables but without the name? I don't think so.

Here we have a Red-tailed Hawk, a common species, who has become the ambassador for Wildlife in New York City, in good part initially with the public, because he has a very good name. People did and do care about him, and hence care also for the other named hawks which now grace our many neighborhoods with their own local watchers.

I had thought about doing the rest of the post which is about humans as if we readers were another species, observing them. A kind of field noting of Homo sapiens. Giving them letters and numbers for identifiers. Using "it".

I thought about it. It is just too disrespectful and some people might not understand. Therefore if you want to play the game for yourself, just read through imagining yourself to be some imaginery highly cognizant species observing the Homo sapiens fascinating behavior.

It's the Fourth of July. In Milton, Wisconsin as in many towns there is a parade on the 4th. On the left is Harry in his lawn chair. Remember Harry? He's the one with the emu. Harry is baby sitting the early 20th century Shepard and Nichols steam engine. This is the first year ever, that one will be in the parade.

Why does a steam engine need babysitting? Because it runs on steam, life steam, and it takes some hours to get a full head of steam going. There is a fire box full of burning wood that makes the steam. And if something goes wrong, like the water gets too low in the engine, the whole thing will blow sky high. And I mean sky high along with all the people within many yards of the machine. Someone and hopefully several someones are always paying attention to a steam engine.

This big silver number on the end, it's all hooked together is a 1916 Shepards and Nichols separator. When threshing, the separator separates the straw from the grain. Which is a big improvement on throwing portions up into the air from a flat basket hoping the wind will blow the straw out of the grain.

See the little red tank in front of the separator. That is a water wagon. It is important to have a ready supply of water when dealing with a steamer. It's that explosion thing again.

12:30pm
On the right is Paul, he'll be one of the engine operators for the parade. It takes two people to drive the sucker. (Now wouldn't it be more helpful if his name was Engineer?) On the right is Ron, the one wearing the aloha shirt with his overalls. He owns the steam engine. In fact he owns dozens and dozens of various era engines and tractors. His family never threw anything away and liked to collect stuff besides. (And of course if Ron were a hawk, his name would be aloha shirt.) This summer at the Thresheree they're going for the world record of threshing machines threshing at the same time.

12:31pm Finally the engine is getting the go ahead to move from the side street to the main street which is the one that the parade will go down.

You may have noticed there are three boys riding on top of the separator. I have a question. Look at the boy's expressions. What is it that happens to adolescent boys that turns them into this, emotionally...

12:37pm ...when they started out like this?

12:41pm Engine is now in parade position. This is Marty. He's my second cousin and his father is Harry who has the emu. Marty eats, drinks, and sleeps steam engines. Which is a good thing as we have one in the parade and time is still passing.

Remember the engine has a full head of steam? And it's just sitting there with nothing to do with all that energy that's building up. Suddenly Marty hops off the engine and madly begins turning spigots open. Paul is beside him and some water runs out of the pipes and into the street. Whatever it is, it seems okay now. Marty says something or other "is doing its job". I'm really glad.

A few minutes later with a huge roar and a shreaking whistle, steam blasts out of the top of the engine. That's the automatic steam release valve. If too much is building up, it lets off a little steam to relieve the situation. Now you know where the expression, "letting off a little steam" comes from. Notice that everyone is startled and looking at the steam except Marty. He's looking at the important things. The gauges there under the steering wheel. Just checkin' and I'm glad.

12:52 The release valve goes off several more times. Marty comments that steam engines aren't meant to just sit there and I assume someone may have gone to let someone know that the parade needed to start now. Marty puts on his sunglasses.

12:54pm The people in the people wagon wait.

And off we go. I'm sure Marty is relieved. The machine isn't the only thing that doesn't like standing around. For some reason he reminds me of the tank commander Rommel from WWII when he drives a steamer.

And keep going, there are the folks sitting in front of the volunteer fire house. Some one's grandmother is up sitting next to the fridge in the shade.

The children are always happy at the parade--the floats throw candy.

Then in, it seems like no time, we're at the corner that is the beginning of the end of the parade route.

And here is Harry of the emu, with all his bells and whistles. It really is an amazing collection that runs on an air compressor. And for some reason besides all the noise production he's got a lock from Alcatraz mounted there too.

After prodigeous numbers of ice pops, and feeling slightly more human the guys stand in a guy clump discussing legistics.

Remember Josh? He's the one who saved the giant snapping turtle who was crossing the road at an inoportune moment. Snapping Turtle was featured on the blog. Josh and I released him into the pond he was heading for.

Here he, Josh not the snapping turtle is waiting for the guys to finish their ad hoc conference about getting all the equipment to the Studebakers, without steep hills, so they can all be rolled onto trucks and taken back where they came from. Most of them are stored at Thresherman's Park in big ugly metal buildings. (Just a broad hint, I think they need period buildings to match the age of the tractors.)

Oh, that's a beauty of an 830 CASE Josh is sitting on. Yup the tractors have books written about them which are the equivalent of field guides for farm machinery. Who knew?

And now for a couple of Homo sapien field notes: 2:17pm This is Isabella. She is blue eyed and dark haired. Homo sapiens come in many different color morphs with great variation. This is a reasonably unusual combination.

2:34pm The most rare color morph and here we're lucky to have two to look at. The Red-headed Homo sapien. This is the most recessive color morph in the species gene pool!

FOR PART II, SCROLL DOWN PAST TWO INTERIM POSTS UNTIL YOU FIND SOMETHING THAT INCLUDES...PART II IN THE TITLE.

D.B.

Internet Issues.

Dear Readers,

I'll make this quick as I don't know how long I have. My internet provider has been down most of the day. I got on earlier for about 10 minutes and was knocked off and unable to get back on until now for who knows how long. Wisconsin is currently under thunderstorm, flash flood, and tornado watches. (Welcome to the Midwest.) The blog may go up as scheduled or it may not depending. Just letting you know so you don't think I'm shirking and sitting around eatting bon bons.

D.B.

CA Wild Fires Threaten Condors OR The Fourth of July, Part I

When I first came to the computer to do today's blog, I had it in my mind that I should talk about the danger to the CA Condors, the most threatened bird I'm told, (That is if you don't think there are any Ivory Bill's left or species we don't know about keeling over.) that the CA wildfires are posing.

I then realized that that was going to most likely be depressing. And I realized I was tired. And that one more blog about depressing bird issues just seemed like one too many in a row at the moment. Particularly as we haven't been following any individual Condors and as far as I know, there is no new news concerning the Houston Family or Lead Fledge. The Cathedral fledgling in Central Park appears dandy and I've not received any heads up about the NYC Red-tails today having something dire happen. Hmmm.

Oh, I'll get back on the reporting bicycle, couldn't keep myself from it, but just for today I'm thinking a day off from sick, injured, poisoned, unfindable, or endangered birds would be a thought.

So I scrutinized that thought. Was I being a weinie?

No I wasn't. I was reacting like a reasoably normal Homo sapien.

What does that mean?

It means, that if there was a California Condor named, for instance Harvey, instead of something like A217, and I knew who Harvey's mate and child were, I would absolutely have to check on how Harvey was doing. But since they insist on calling "Harvey" a number, he isn't personalized. And somehow-- thinking, " I wonder how Harvey and the family are doing with those fires in California? I better find out." is totally different than, " I wonder how A217 is." I mean who is A 217? At least it seems that way to me at the moment. Though I've just found that as I've read the beginning of this paragraph a number of times, A217 is becoming more like a name all the time. That's Homo sapien for you.

Which made me start thinking about human behavior. We are mammals after all.

Titillated I went ahead with that path and I have the photographs for Part II all loaded and ready for the prose, but as there are 14 them--yes, afraid so-- hate to break it to you--

BLOGGER is tired too, and probably grumpy. BLOGGER doesn't want to load any more photographs so BLOGGER isn't going to, because that's how BLOGGER is.

Therefore I'm trying to decide if any of it will make sense if I leave you with no Part I while publishing Part II.


D. B.

CA Wild Fires or the Fourth of July? Part II

Marty and Cole Studebaker start heading for home with the rest of us in tow. Well not really "in tow", just in line. Gotta be careful how you say things when you have something that is actually capable of towing all the rest of the vehicles.

See all the cars bumper to bumper backed up to the horizon? This doesn't happen in Milton. In fact it's so rare, unlike New York City, that I was asked to take a photo of it.

Turning into the Studebaker''s driveway and "Harry's Yard" www.harrysyard.com/ And what do you do when you get there?

You have a picnic of course.

And there is Ron, aka Aloha shirt, talking on his cell phone sitting on a tractor tire.

Here is one of the sheds at Harry's Yard.

And Harry's phone booth. No not operable. Harry just likes it.

And his old gas pump, and speed limit , and RR crossing sign.

No reason to have to take the kids to the playground, Harry has one of those as well. And more RR signs and his own mailbox too. Remember playground merry go rounds? They don't have them in NYC. They're considered too dangerous. One child did say he felt like "barfing" but nobody bled.

See the screened in gazebo in the back there? See the white blobs near the roof? Those are a bunch of buffalo skulls. Harry is actually a mountain man born in the wrong time.

Speaking of some things that are truly dangerous--Here are the children.

Over to their left is this. What is this? A big wooden mallet like in the cartoons, BAM. And a little cart full of scythes.

Yes, folks you heard it here. You know the thing that the grim reaper carries around? There they are and the children never touch them or any of the other things in the yard that could kill themselves or each other with. Fascinating. (Have the dumb ones already done themselves in are have the kiddies been threatened within an inch of their lives if they touch something. That's a joke just in case you're flipping out now.) I suspect that when you grow up with these sorts of things, you just know. Though Cole does have a several inch scar on his head you can see when his hair is very short. He ran into an anvil.

Come to think of it, he's never done it again. It must have been a very good learning experience. Perhaps you only have to do something like that once.

Further in the back of the very large yard, is the buffalo skull curing area. He put the heads there and the bugs clean them up for Harry.

(He has a friend that raises Buffalo for those concerns that make buffalo burgers.)

Wait a minute That's not just a windmill, that's getting awfully close to art.

By the time Mary's huge cherry cheesecake has been devoured, it's time for...

Fireworks in my backyard. It just happens to abut the park where they set them off. And there is a carnival with rides besides. It's Red, White, and Blue--

But somehow part of the day seemed to be in black and white too.

Donegal Browne

Bobby's Update--Houston and Houston 2, Plus Eleanor's Birds in Central Park

Photograph by Francois Portmann
Atlas the Triborough Nest Dad, who with Mom Athena, fostered Houston as if he were one of their own while he was in their care.

Houston and Houston 2 Photographs Courtesy of the Horvaths
This is a view of some of Houston's (H1) Frounce lesions or as they are called in the UK, frounces. They are often described as being caseous, or cheesy. The causative agent of this disease is a flagillated protozoan called Trichomonas gallinae. The same disease in pigeons, doves, and poultry is called Canker or Roup. (Though there are other avian diseases which also have very similar lesions making it difficult to diagnose immediately.)



Birds may become riddled with caseous necrotic foci, or "yellow buttons". See back right of Houston's mouth.

The lesions may invade internal organs such as the liver, may block the throat, nasal passages, encroach within the skull, and/or fill the croup. It is a dreadful disease though virulence of the causative agent can vary.



Called Canker when it attacks pigeons and doves has been studied in Columba, therefore the incubation period and activity is known for the illness in pigeons but not for hawks. A healthy pigeon may be exposed to a less virulent variety of canker and develop some immunity against it and more virulent strains when they appear. The same process may occur in hawks explaining less disease in older birds.

The disease as I suspected from observation of pigeons strikes more often in hot weather or when birds are stressed.

A note from rehabber Bobby Horvath who is caring for Houston and H2: "In addition to what you can see in his mouth there is much more down his throat, under his jaw, and in his crop that we can feel which makes his case much worse than Hous " 2 " . This is why he is so thin presently. He has a hard time swallowing anything solid so Cathy is mixing him up a meal of the blended smoothie type which is tubed into his crop. He's also getting flagyl, sprartrix, and baytril ."

July 5-- Once again and still, Houston 2 is eating on his own. The Horvaths report that H2 has improved but "he's still not out of the woods".

H2 looks to be eating with energy.

Compare H2's lesions with those of Houston's (H1). These have lost some of the "cheesy" (caseous) look so apparent in Houston's only newly treated cankers. H2 has been treated with flagyl, sprartrix, and baytril for nearly a week now and it has taken some effect. Keep your fingers crossed.

Photograph by Eleanor Tauber
While we have been swept up with the drama of the Houston and D fledglings, Thunder on her TV tower, frounce, foster parenting in Red-tails, tracking down Houston in Astoria Park, and the appearance of lead poisoning in the Cathedral fledge, other birds in town have been going about their lives and everyday dramas. And photographer Eleanor Tauber has been recording them doing it. Here is a Great Egret in Turtle Pond.

Photograph by Eleanor Tauber

A beautiful Blue Bar Pigeon takes his ease in Central Park.

Photograph by Eleanor Tauber

And I'm very pleased to see the two mallard ducklings I last saw sleeping on their mother's feet as she slept only half down on the Model Boat Pond Duckling Raft to protect them, have grown well and are beautifully healthy.

Donegal Browne

Red-tailed Hawk Update: Hous Gets Help, Plus The Cathedral Lead Fledge

Photograph by Francois Portmann
Hous hides in the opening above the grate at the bottom of the pool

HOUS FINALLY IS RESCUED AND GETS MEDICAL HELP

An update from long searching Jules Corkery--

Hi All,

Wanted to update you guys on Houston, the baby hawk at Astoria Park. Seems right to just name him Houston to honor his family history and the amazing story of a neighborhood that dared to bring this young family under its wing.

Well, to make a long story short, Houston was taken by Cathy Horvath to get medical attention for his definite case of frounce. Peter arrived at the pool at about 6:30 and saw that both babies were at the diving platform waiting for breakfast. I got there a little after 7. Houston was still very sick.



Photograph by Francois Portmann
All of a sudden he glided down to the bottom of the pool and stepped into the shallow drain. (There is just a little bit of rain water at the bottom of the pool.) The drain is a long rectangular recess about a foot deep that conceals the filter/water supply/drain system for the high diving pool. There are two or more pipes that are not capped - one from which he was drinking. He was practically invisible to us as he was perfectly camouflaged in the brown/rusty recess! If we had not been looking at the moment he glided off the diving platform, we might not have seen where he had gone!

This is possibly where he was hiding yesterday and why we couldn't find him! It also explains why is chest was covered in a "rusty" color - it must be from the rusty water and muck at the bottom of the drain. Poor little guy! It was a sad sight and epitomized how he must be suffering - sitting in a muddy gutter in the rain.

Francois arrived and Adam was on his way so we got in touch with the urban rangers. Cathy Horvath had the net, carrying case, and the baby in the van and was on the way. We hoped Houston would stay in the drain until the rescue was ready to be enacted. Cathy was stuck in traffic but was on the phone with Howard the supervisor for the Urban Rangers and encouraged them to go in and get him as soon as possible as she knew that he was very sick and that he could lose a lot of body heat.

Photograph by Francois Portmann
Things got a little dicey when parks started to ask questions (which is their job of course!) but we all quickly realized that we all wanted the same thing - to get the bird some medical attention. The rangers and Vinnie Ceroni were able to get Houston into a carrying case very quickly and Cathy arrived shortly after that.

Good luck Cathy and Bobby! We know that Houston will be well taken care of and that he won't suffer unnecessarily.

Regards,
Jules


Photograph by Francois Portmann

Photograph by Francois Portmann

Adam relayed the information that Trib stood on the ground less than five metres away from Houston when the latter was captured. The Triborough Nest fledgling is very lively, begs constantly, and jumps around a lot.

And Francois reported that both foster parents were in the pool area as well.

Cathy (Those look like Cathy's hands to me anyway.) opens Hous's beak and shows the frounce lesions in his mouth. Also note how gray the front half of his tongue is.

Photograph by Francois Portmann
Note that Houston is being held without gloves. I find that bare hands are better when it comes to sick birds, if safe for the caretaker, and if they aren't suffering from a zoonotic disease. Skin is warmer and more comforting even if, in this case, it is human skin. The caretaker also has far more manual dexterity when it comes to giving gentlest care possible.

Photograph by Francois Portmann
Poor Houston goes into the carrier for transport to rehab. This is a very very sick hawk. He is lying in much the same position that the Houston tiercel took when he was placed in the carrier--on his side and flattened.

Adam Welz who works with Fish Eagles for part of each year said about Houston's condition, "You could smell the canker from metres away... Cathy thinks he has a broken jaw (the protozoan can weaken bones, apparently). I would be very surprised if he made it."

Off Houston went with Cathy and baby Sadie for an IV to push fluids, food, and medication. And Houston 2 is there waiting, still holding his own.

Many thanks to Jules, Peter, Adam, Francois, Nabil, the Urban Rangers, the Astoria Park Staff , the Horvaths, the construction workers who pointed the sick Hous out to Nabil, and those who sent prayers and positive wishes. Truly a thank you to everyone. It took a team.

THE CATHEDRAL LEAD FLEDGE: A NOTE ON HER CURRENT CONDITION FROM BOBBY HORVATH--

The Cathedral bird is strong , eats well and at times stands on the bad foot "normally" but it is infrequent. We are also treating her as well for frounce to be on the safe side.

Bobby

Several readers have asked if there is a vaccine or prophylactic that could be given to young birds so they wouldn't contract this disease.

Bobby and I talked about this. There is some trepidation about giving vaccines to young birds as there isn't an understanding as to whether it might impact their immune systems so it isn't normally recommended as a rule of thumb. But these rules of thumb are general.

Urban hawks and falcons who eat far far more pigeons than their country cousins also contract frounce far more often. It tends to kill eyasses, fledglings and young adults, therefore it would have to be given to young birds even though some are concerned about immune system impact. But an unknown possible immune system impact might well be preferable to frounce. Which truly is a dreadful way to die.

Bobby is thinking seriously of going ahead regardless of the rule of thumb and attempting to protect all young birds that come into his care who might consume pigeon.

I also asked Bobby why Lola and Pale Male had never shown signs of frounce though they have had eyasses die of it? The answer is that it is suspected that older birds get frounce more rarely because they have developed some immune system resistance to the protozoa.

And that is how it all currently stands to the best of my knowledge.

Donegal Browne

FLASH!!! Houston 1 Rescued!

This morning Houston 1 was rescued. He is now in the care of Cathy Horvath who, with baby Sadie, sped to Astoria Park to pick him up.

He is very ill and may have a broken jaw but is at last now receiving fluids, has been fed, and given medication.

MORE TO COME