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From: RonB <ronb02NOSPAM@gmail.com>
Newsgroups: comp.os.linux.advocacy
Subject: Re: Kiddie crap
Date: Mon, 10 Jun 2024 11:45:10 -0000 (UTC)
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On 2024-06-09, rbowman <bowman@montana.com> wrote:
> On Sun, 9 Jun 2024 12:16:15 -0000 (UTC), RonB wrote:
>
>> So the sparrows were doing their variation of the killdeer trick (or a
>> "fool's hen" trick — unless that's another name for a killdeer).
>
> I don't think they are actually sparrows but they're about that size. I'm 
> not much of a birder when it comes the the LGBs. (little grey birds, not 
> some pride month agronym)

"Sparrows" was just easier to write than "birds who were about the size of 
sparrows." 

> It's another distraction technique called the 'rodent run'. They pretend 
> to be a mouse scurrying down the trail. They've got the act down pat and 
> let you think you're going to catch them at any moment. If you slow down, 
> they also slow, speed up, and they speed up. It's amusing if you have a 
> couple more IQ points than the average black lab.

I've never seen this, but wouldn't mind seeing it some day.

> 'Fool hens' are Spruce Grouse.
>
> https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Spruce_grouse

I should have looked them up. It's doubtful a killdeer would be confused 
with a hen. But killdeers are the only birds I've seen do the "broken wing" 
thing. When I lived on the side of a hill outside of Kalispell, we used to 
walk up into the trees (instead of going to school) and every now and then a 
Ruffed Grouse would explode under our feet. Talk about being startled.

> Unless they're trying to lead you away from a nest they quietly sit and 
> hope you don't notice them. It's not the greatest strategy. Not my finest 
> moment but I saw one one a branch and took out my pack gun, a .38 snubbie. 
> It was loaded with hollow points so I reloaded with lead hand loads, not 
> wanting to waste factory ammunition. Then I shot the bird that had been 
> observing this entire process. After you get the feathers off there isn't 
> much left.

At this point in my life, unless I needed the meat, I would never kill most 
any creature any more. The idea of hunting "for sport" no longer has any 
appeal to me — it hasn't for years. When I lived in Texas, a guy at work 
showed me his deer stand (and feed trough). He had a camera on them, so he 
could watch his half-sized White Tails eating his Purina Deer Chow. Come 
hunting season he could go out and shoot one of his pet deer. Just seemed 
completely wrong to me. That's not hunting.

> Another distraction behavior I wandered into involved goshawks. No broken 
> wings there, they dive bomb you coming close enough to hit you with a 
> wing. I got the hell out of their territory as fast as possible. That's 
> when I saw the sign on the trail saying it was closed due to the breeding 
> hawks. I'd come the long way around and they'd only signed the end closest 
> to the trailhead. Since then I avoid the area during the breeding season 
> just in case.

I can understand avoiding them. There was a similar situation where my 
brother worked as an onsite PBX tech in Lexington, Kentucky (at, I think, 
the Marathon Oil headquarters — or at least a regional office). Canadian 
Geese built nests above the main entrance and they would sometimes dive bomb 
people trying to go into the building. Not exactly a hawk, but they're big 
birds.

Weird thing about Canadian Geese is that, when I lived in Montana, basically 
the only time I saw them was when they were migrating either north or south 
and they formed honking V's way up in the air. But, when I moved to Texas 
(and when I worked in the Washington, D.C. for awhile) they were year-round 
"residents" (or, since, they're "Canadian", illegal aliens). Every 
irrigation pond in the Boise area has Canadian Geese (as well as Mallard 
Ducks). There's so many of them that they're kind of a nuisance (same as 
they are back east). I like the Mallards, the geese are a little aggressive 
sometimes. But I enjoy watching both, especially in the spring when the 
babies are hatching. 

-- 
[Self-centered, Woke] "pride is a life of self-destructive fakery, an 
entrapment to a false and self-created matrix of twisted unreality." 
"It was pride that changed angels into devils..."     — St. Augustine