I Think My Circle Is Better Than Your Circle - Jerk

So, I posted this photo before. I thought it was in a story, but it must have been in a reply to someone because I will be damned if I can find it.

I first saw this guy (or gal - who knows) when I was out cutting wood. He was watching a juvenile bald eagle ripping meat off a deer carcass. That was close to three weeks ago. I kept seeing him sitting on the cordwood pile or in the tree next to it every day when I went out to the farm to feed my last steer (another story, but my last farm animal as all the others are now gone, and he has only a short life of leisure left too).

As it turns out, I kept seeing him, not because of the deer carcass, but because he had somehow damaged some feathers (an assumption) and could only barely fly from one point to the next. I know that there were no broken bones because he actually could fly, just not very far. I could see a couple of feathers hanging low, hence my assumption that this was his issue. It could have been a pulled muscle or who knows what else.

Since the deer carcass had been pretty much picked through by the juvenile and the fox, coyote and other scavengers around here, I decided I would dig down to the bottom of the freezer and pull out some of the mystery packages of meat that likely had been there for years. Freezer burned soup bones, beef liver, etc. Thaw them out and give this guy a chance to get better.

My dad told me I was being wasteful (he has kung flu paranoia) and that everything I took out could have been made into soup (although I can honestly say, I have never had liver soup). I ignored his advice and started bringing out a pound or so of this every other day.

My leavings were always gone when I went back, but I was convinced that he was eating them because he always watched me intently even though I was dumping the stuff a good 200 ft away from the tree he was in. My thoughts were confirmed about a week into this venture when I turned around as I walked back to the barn and saw him on the ground eagerly gobbling some liver.

My wife kept telling me, call someone. They will come and get him. I told her, "no one wants to come here with all this other shit going around and I am not going to put them in the position where they have to say no. We will see how it works out."

Yesterday afternoon after work, I was down to my last of two packages of meat (and I am glad to have it out of the freezer - there is plenty of good stuff to last many months) and I went out to the farm with it and to give my steer his bucket full of corn and grain (He will soon occupy some of the space I cleared) and as I looked out across the field, my eagle friend (who I have not named) was occupying his usual perch.

I walked out with my bag of meat and he eyed me just as cautiously as he usually did. Once I dropped the treat, I walked back and as I got about halfway back to the barn I turned and watched and he was already on the ground eating it. I watched for a bit and he flew up into the tree again. I thought to myself, he seems to be flying better every day.

This was confirmed shortly after I turned to return to the barn because he evidently flew out of the tree, directly over my head and was soon high in the sky just as you would expect an eagle to fly.

I stopped and within moments, he was joined up in the sky by the juvenile I had seen before.

I wonder if he will be in his tree waiting for me when I go back with the last of his food this afternoon.

I often think about the bible verse from Ecclesiastes (and I can't be bothered to look up the specifics), One generation passes away, and another generation comes; But the earth abides forever.

It is actually quite reassuring.







An Update:

I drove to the farm this afternoon after work to feed the steer. I brought two packages of liver and my last beef heart (see @Degbeme I actually had three hearts) so I am now heartless! I did not see my friend in his usual spots as I walked out to the field but thought oh well, maybe he has gone back to better perches. As I cut open the freezer bags and dumped out the treat (raw liver really is a bloody mess) I thought well, the fox will get this one. When I scanned the tree line as prepared to head back to the barn, there he was, nearly at the top of a tall maple.

I never saw him come down for the food, but I am betting he did. That will be his final treat. Not only because he is better, but because I have no more!