The Story of Cirrus

By: Jeff Shapiro

By KAVU

January 5^th, 2021

Hunting with a bird of prey is a privilege that, for me..... allows an opportunity to be a part of something that involves so much of what I love about life. Nature, flight, and learning are all things Cirrus.... and all the birds I've been lucky enough to hunt with.... have brought to my worldview.

Cirrus, unlike the wild birds I've trained, was bred by a world-renown falconer. Cirrus is a hybrid, 50% Gyr and 50% Peregrine.

When he joined our family, he was a ball of white down with two huge feet sticking out but, the growth rate of birds of prey is astronomical. I brought him home at 18 days old and 20 days later, he had dropped many of his flight feathers and was looking like a full grown falcon (waddling around like a lost chicken;-) We made sure he was properly socialized, as part of his daily training routine which included being introduced to the dogs, the van and of course, our friends. In fact, on one such trip to visit our good friend Neil Amonson, Cirrus took his first flight, flying from my fist to land on Neil's head. I mean.... that's where I'd land;-)

Slowly, he made progress toward getting airborne in the field. When his feathers finally all came in and he was hard penned, he had almost a gold or, cream color to what would eventually turn white. Juvenile falcons (and hawks) grow plumage that changes after their first year of life. Seeing how his first-year feathers grew in was cool because I knew it was the only season he'd look the way he did. Also, a falcon's feet and cere are typically a blue/gray to begin with and only start to yellow when they grow out of this juvenile stage. You can see the difference in the photos below. The first two are a young Cirrus (what a punk!) and the third image is his adult plumage.

On days that poor weather prevents training or, in between sessions, I like to sit with him and learn about his body language. The way he holds his feathers is a clear form of communication... letting me know his current mood. When he stands on one leg, like a flamingo, and puffs up like in this image, I know he's about as content as he can be.

The art of falconry comes with figuring out how to achieve a partnership that's beneficial to both bird and human. My job is to provide him with opportunities to chase, catch and dispatch his prey and his job is to share that prey with us. This is the premise of falconry.

This is done by consistency and positive reinforcement. You can't discipline a bird. They only know "fight or flight". If you tried to dominate a bird like people do when training a dog, for instance.... the falcon would either grab you with sharp talons or, simply fly away and not come back. But if I provide a safe place for my bird to roost at night, food to eat each day and the ability to fly, chase, and catch it's prey in the wild.... Cirrus will recognize me as an advantage in his life and cooperatively hunt with me.

Unlike a trained bird from the wild, Cirrus has been raised by me since he was only an eyass so he's imprinted and views me as his partner for life. We are bonded but.... that never guarantees success. I must do right by our partnership. I really like that the hunt together is always based on mutual respect for the common goal.

After many lessons and many attempts, his natural abilities were starting to show and he was getting the "game" we were playing. Like anything I try, I could tell he was learning from his mistakes and figuring out what brought success while hunting. Of course, it helped that we were hunting in one of the most beautiful places in the world (with bias, of course;-) Hunting in Montana is special, indeed.

Most falcons hunt avian prey. Cirrus's favorite is when I flush pheasants, partridge or ducks. He takes off from my fist and circles up to gain 300-500' above me, following me (and sometimes a bird dog) from that vantage point as I walk through the fields. When a bird flushes, Cirrus folds his wings tight against his body, rolls over and stoops (sometimes over 150 miles an hour) until he makes contact with his prey. In the video below, he was young and stooped too early. When the prey tried to escape, I could tell Cirrus was learning what was working and what wasn't. It's been cool to see him progress with his strategy and eventually become consistent.

Over the seasons, he's become the expert he was born to be. It's obviously in his genetics.... in his blood. It's funny to feel like a "proud parent" because, with 100% certainty..... I've learned more from that little bird than he'll ever learn from me.

It doesn't always work out and any day Cirrus ends up back on my fist ..... it's a good day of falconry but..... he's found his rhythm. Each time we share the results of a good hunt, I'm grateful for all the days it took to get here, now!