I remember my first eagle ceremony when I turned nine. The first eagle you get is always declawed, which I always thought was pretty inhumane, but it was a good way to ease into caring for the birds. My eagle (named Baldy, because I wasn’t a terribly clever child) was already quite old when I received him (he was a rescue eagle, luckily) but I did have him until I was 16. I don’t know if I was more excited about getting my drivers license that year, or my new eagle! You should have seen the party we had when I got him, too! Grilled hot dogs and fire works and lemonade…. obviously I named my beautiful new eagle Freedom. He’s too big to keep inside anymore, unfortunately, but we’ve got a pretty comfortable roost for him on our apartment’s balcony.
Ah, yes, the eagle ceremony! My Justice and I remember his quite well. (They had just come out with telepathic link transplants when I got him, which is how I know he remembers it.) Our celebration was quite modest, compared to Freedom’s—apple pie under a cloudless summer sky as we signed our Declaration of Interdependence. I still have the inked and talon-pierced document hanging on my wall.
what is this
Get out Canada
I was so scared during my pet eagle ceremony I almost threw up. But Stonewall Jackson and I have been best friends ever since. My dad and grandfather built a really massive roost behind the house for my eagle and my sisters’ eagles. Stonewall always waits for me when I get home from class since schools are getting so over protective and strict these days and won’t allow eagles indoors. Which just goes to show how much we’re bubble wrapping kids today. Back in the day, if you couldn’t handle a few stitches because you pissed off the wrong kid’s eagle, you had to just man up and learn your lesson!
Ooo, I never miss a chance to tell this story! I had a rather unusual first eagle ceremony. The traditional giant American flag that you wave around to summon your eagle had been severely damaged the week prior (a ceremony that had not gone according to plan, but the child only suffered minor talon wounds. The flag took the brunt of the attack). Anyway, I couldn’t use the normal flag so we had to search ALL OVER for one suitable for eagle summoning. Unfortunately the stripes weren’t the correct shade of patriotic red so everyone was worried an eagle wouldn’t show up at all. I had to stand in the middle of that wheat field, the wind creating amber waves out of it, shaking that flag in the air for over three hours. Everyone was just about to give up when suddenly Patriot appeared out of nowhere! He came to me so quickly it was like he was apologizing for being late. And we’ve been together ever since.
Oh, I loved the eagle ceremony! Mine wasn’t special to say the least, but I did end up naming my eagle Liberty. My nephew will have his own eagle ceremony soon, I’m super excited. Maybe his eagle and mine can be best friends? Oh, I sure hope so. That’d be cool!
Honestly, I think the eagle ceremony is the best part of growing up in the states. I remember getting my first eagle. Feathers was my first friend. He had a bad wing but he kept trying to fly no matter what he did. I would help him and we even made him a little perch with stairs. He taught me a lot. There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t miss my eagle. My parents are looking to get me another one. Oh, I hope they hurry up!!
My Eagle ceremony was a tad different than most. Due to my Native Alaskan roots, it’s fifty-fifty whether you get the standard Eagle or a Raven instead. My dad had a Raven who’s watched over us since I was little, and he was quite talkative, always taking the chance for some interesting conversation. However, since it was my dad who had the Raven, I was to get an Eagle (our culture takes after our mothers). I still remember that day, I was so nervous! I had the ceremonial staff of the Eagle head, and that was when I learned the word our people had for eagles. Ch’aak. My beloved Eagle was such a worry-wort. He’d follow me to school no matter what I did and would perch himself on a light pole and just watch. I ended up naming him Ch’aak since I wanted any excuse to say the word, and really hadn’t blossomed into my creative mind at the time. He took any chance to preen and chatter at me, and I’d always tell him about my day. We have a lot of trees in our yard so he stayed outside. He also had a grudge against our cat so we did our best to keep them away from each other. During a school field trip to the Eagle Mating grounds I watched him fall in love. He tried to deny it and continue watching over me, but I wouldn’t let him sacrifice that. I had to let him go. I miss him terribly, but I’ve been seeing an eagle watch over me this summer from a light pole, and though I know he can’t be mine, I think it might be his son, coming home to carry out his father’s duty. I’m so proud of him it almost brings me to tears.
Oh, Lord, all these emotional Eagle Ceremony stories. I remember mine, when I got my beloved Meriwether, named for Meriwether Lewis, of Lewis and Clark. Meriwether was such a friend to me, helping me through middle school by clawing that one bitch’s face off. Alas, poor Meriwether was caught out in an August thunderstorm the summer between freshman and sophomore year, and we buried him under an apple tree.
RIP Meriwether, I’ll never forget you
(Source: oliviahopeful, via crackinois)
