|Guinea Boy before the string got on his feet|
I armed myself with a couple large dark colored bath towels to throw over the bird when I caught him and a fishing net on a long pole that we use sometimes to chase the young chickens out of the pine tree when they follow the guineas up to roost. The pole was long and awkward, about 20 feet long. I marched up to the guineas, put the heavy towels around my neck/shoulders, and awkwardly maneuvered the fishnet towards the guinea flock. They all took one look at me, screamed bloody murder, and took off running through the woods. Guinea Boy still limped and had to make small steps, but he was very, very fast! The chase was on!
|Fishing net on 20 foot pole|
An hour later, I wasn't making any headway. I was still following the flock every time they flew away. Guinea Boy was getting slower with his walking, his legs appeared to be tiring, but his wings were strong, and when he took to the air he flew long distances, easily leaving me behind. I chased the flock into the deep woods, thinking they wouldn't be able to fly in heavy branches and would have to run. Guinea Boy was slowing, separating from the flock when it ran. I had to cross two small historic wire fences, halfway knocked down by deer over the years. I used the towels to put over the fences while I climbed over. The towels came in handy, finally. I didn't want to leave them in the woods even though I hated carrying them.
Another 30 minutes passed. Guinea Boy was tiring, his walking was very limited now. He relied mostly on flying, and when he flew he left me in his dust. I almost caught him many times, throwing the towels over him, just to have him slip away. I maneuvered the net over him several times, but he snuck out. Once I had him in my hands, but lost him. Finally exhausted, I made my way towards the house and found Randy and his friend, asking for help, telling them of my adventures. I was worn out, sweating, hair going in every direction, scratches all over, pants torn, covered in ticks (I forgot to spray beforehand!). I figured they could help to corner Guinea Boy. I led them right to the bird's hiding spot in the woods ~ he was hidden under a wild thicket of rose bushes with huge thorns everywhere.
And to my dismay, Randy's friend walked right up to Guinea Boy, disregarded the thorns tearing at his arms and clothes, and he reached down and picked up the tired bird. I just stood there with my mouth hanging open, feeling foolish. He made it look so simple! He didn't even use the towel to throw over the bird, just used his hands.
|Guinea Boy this morning with the white guinea hen|
Good luck, Guinea Boy.