I should have enjoyed a nice beef stew for supper last evening, instead I fed my stewing beef cubes, the entire package, to a wild and hungry rough-legged hawk.
As I was driving home from the Oromocto Superstore yesterday, I was admiring the many hawks that were sitting in trees, waiting for mice to appear in the meadows below. Every approaching winter seems to draw these large hawks to the Grand Lake Meadows where field mice must be an abundant source of food.
Up ahead I saw one rough-legged hawk, dark phase plumage, fly across the road awkwardly (or hawkwardly, if you will). It occurred to me that this was odd behaviour. As I approached the hawk in my car I noticed that this particular fellow stayed on the shoulder of the road. I assumed one of two things: he had some food he wasn't prepared to part with, or he was injured.
I got out of my car and approached the hawk. He flew a few feet and then proceeded to walk away from me. I walked towards him. Eventually we got to a point where we were seven feet apart, both staring at each other suspiciously. I gave him my best 'eagle eye', he countered with piercing hawk eyes. We stayed like this for some time until it became evident that he was injured and probably unable to feed himself, then the lights came on (!).
In the car I had about a pound of stewing beef, neatly cubed, that was destined to be part of my supper. How could I be so selfish? It would have been a shame to dine alone, so I walked back to the car, grabbed the package of beef and went back to my hawk. He hadn't moved. I peeled back the cellophane wrapper and tossed him a cube. Bad toss, it was too far from him. My third toss landed a piece right in front of the hawk. He knew what to do.
Stabbing the meaty morsel with his talon, he then proceeded to shield the meat with his wings, then tear away at it with his beak. For a hawk, he was decidedly ravenous. I ended up feeding the hawk half of the package of beef and I left the rest with him. Ideally it will fuel him up until his wing can heal, but I'll probably never know his fate.
One thing is for sure, it's unlikely I'll ever have supper with a wild hawk again. It was a once-in-a-lifetime dinner experience, even better than having supper with Prince Charles!
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