Sunday, August 10, 2008

naming conventions

I've finally decided to name this bird. Sometimes he drives me crazy, and hawking between 8 and 11 times a week is wearing out me, my tires, and my wallet, but I think I like him enough to bother. It doesn't rule out the possibility of release or giving him to someone else. Nor does it rule out the use of other names, like "Dummy," "Slice Factory," and "My Finger is Not a Sparrow, So Please Stop Pumping Your Talons Into It."

While he was still a young thing I occasionally called him Gleep in honor of Bodio's description of the eyas screaming while eating ("Scream! Scream! Scream! Gleep! Scream! Scream! Gleep! Scream!"), which he did do on mercifully rare occasions. But that's just humor to dispel the extremes of ambivalence. You can't help but love watching him grow and learn his job, but at the meta level the process is nerve racking.

He has one odd feather on his back that curls a bit more than usual, so for the moment it's Curly. Which makes me either Moe or Larry.

It's boiling hot out here today, and the little guy was nearly at weight at 3pm. I gave him 1.5 gm, boneless, well seasoned with water, and hope he'll be ready again at 6:30 or so.

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