RIP to at good buddy
 

I went out the basement door a bit ago, with my trusty Savage in hand, to 'educate' a marauding red squirrel, and found, much to my dismay, that a grouse had committed "suicide by picture window" and was on his back in a pile of seeds. Not just any grouse, this is the big mature male that has been coming to my feeder for two years and had attained a well-earned position of "king of the roost" in my little preserve. What a shame. He was destined for such greatness in the grouse world this summer. Big and strong and very well fed, he was, I'm sure ready for action. The rest of the bunch seem to have gone on their spring walkabout looking for a summer area, but this guy seems to have chosen to remain here. I have been hoping to hear him drumming in my woodlot, despite all the good drumming logs still being covered in deep snow. It must have happened but a few hours ago. as he's barely cooled down. If I were into mounting birds, this would be stunning specimen. What a shame, a "lower the flag to half mast" event.

Hand Salute to the old warrior.

He should be tasty but a bit salty seasoned with your tears.

A sad day.





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Well you don't have to worry about picking shoot out of him. How will you be cooking him?

You might consider making an exception and mount the old gentleman. A lasting tribute to a great bird.

Anyone who has tasted grouse would know what to do. Make sure to open a decent bottle of wine for the occasion.

I have a very special bird recipe that has them sauteed in lots of butter and cream, crimini mushrooms and good sherry. He will get the royal treatment, this one. I was so looking forward to having he and his girlfriend strut back into the yard later on with a line of chicks behind them so they could feed on the clover I've planted for them in advance, and to show them off to me.

That sounds like the perfect meal to be accompanied by some spring fiddleheads! Bon appetit!

We are now seeing the bottom of our sixth 50lb bag of sunflower seeds, and it's a dead heat which will end first; winter or the bird food.
We have always enjoyed the huge numbers of Cardinals that come daily, but one pair, in particular, always fed on the terrace, right outside the family room window.
Saturday, which may prove to have been our very short summer, had me out raking dead leaves from the pachysandra beds, and I found Mrs. Cardinal laying in the leaves, still warm. I knew who she was immediately, and made the mistake of passing the sad news on to my wife. It didn't help matters that I told her I was sure Cardinals mate for life.
I do not believe in coincidence, so I'm sure there is another reason she wore all black to work yesterday.

Sad news. We love our cardinals!

I'd imagine a non-hunter would have a difficult time understanding how those of us who hunt can love and admire animals so much, and mourn a loss like this one. But WE understand, even if we can't quite explain it.