Aviculture another perspective

Abstract


Eor many, the term aviculture sugg sts the husbandry of such birds as parrots, finches, doves, perhaps even waterfowl and pheasants. However, aviculture can be, and should be, much more. Most birds, when provided an appropriate environment, adapt well to captivity. Unfortunately, here in the United States, existing regulations largely preclude private individuals from possessing all but a few of our native birds. Aside from wild waterfowl, and various game birds, most other native forms are denied to aviculturists. In my opinion, and for very practical reasons, this is unfortunate.

Many of us remember a time when regulations were less restrictive. A time when it was possible to keep different kinds of native birds. Many a youngster had a pet crow, or perhaps a Red-tailed Hawk, and no one denied them the pleasure. As a boy, there was never a time I didn't have birds - birds of many varieties. The knowledge and experience from those earlier years has been invaluable in later avicultural pursuits.

One of my early fascinations was with birds of prey. At various times I have reared everything from Kestrels to eagles. Frequently they were babies taken from the nest and handreared, but many injured birds came to me for care. I recall a male Sparrow Hawk (Kestrel) that had a broken wing. The wing healed, but in such a manner the bird was unable to fly. On nice days he spent his time on a falconer's block on the lawn where he could enjoy the warm sunshine. At the time, I was rearing a brood of four babies which were about half grown. On one particularly nice day, as the old bird was on his block, I took the babies out on the lawn to feed them. Grasshoppers

~ were plentiful, and a mainstay of

a. Kestrel diet. As I was feeding the babies, I noticed the old bird had become immensely excited. It finally occurred to me he wanted to feed the youngsters. Somewhat gingerly I placed one of the young ones within reach and gave the old bird a grasshopper. He hopped down from his block and, with a little "chirring" call, reached the hopper out to the baby. The young one responded in an appropriate manner. From that time forward, the babies had found a new parent much to my delight and that of the birds involved.

One of my special favorites was a Red-tailed Hawk named Clipper. Clipper was reared from a fuzzy baby and, as is true with most birds of prey, was incredibly gentle. As he grew older, he spent much of his time on the lawn. Once a week the yard was irrigated by flooding with a couple of inches of water. Like any youngster, Clipper liked to play in the water.






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