The loss of Chayton, the Center’s education Peregrine Falcon, was hard on the entire staff of the Wildlife Center. When asked what made Chayton such a special bird, many of the Wildlife Center staff admitted they had trouble exactly putting their finger on it – and that it was tough not to anthropomorphize. Anthropomorphism, or the attribution of human characteristics, motivation, or behavior to animals, is something that we try to stay away from with wild animals. With education animals, particularly ones as unique as Chayton, it’s hard not to humanize sometimes! And we’re okay with that.
Here are some remembrances of Chayton from the Wildlife Center staff – noting the uncommon bond that many shared with him.
Photo compilation by Scotty T Photography.
Leighann, front desk coordinator: I think Chayton’s attitude is what made him so special to me. Falcons are known in the raptor world for being high energy, high stress birds. On top of that, he had to go through so much here. He was constantly being grabbed, went through multiple surgeries and had to wear giant ball bandages on his feet for months. You would think this would ruin any bird, make him resent humans, and be unsuitable as an educational animal. Instead Chayton trusted us to take care of his needs, he didn’t flinch when we approached him or did office-type tasks right next to him.
My other favorite thing is how excited he got when it was time for dinner. Every time someone would come around that corner he would stretch his neck out to see who it was.
Julia, diagnostic intern: Chayton was part of my morning routine. Every day I would come in and drop off the keys to the student car in the outreach room and say “Morning Pefers”. I would bend down to see him in his crate, he would give a sort of hissing sound and a small flap of the wing. He always seemed to so interested in what was going on around him, especially when he would sit in Dave and Rich’s office on the weekends. He would watch as everyone went by through the hospital, and would sometimes try to make a break for it into the hallway. His puffing and preening after vet-staff handled him, I believe, was his way of trying to get the human off him.
Elizabeth Brooks, office manager: I loved how he always seemed to greet me when I came in. And in my head, Chayton was very pleasant about it. My lasting image of him, is 
his head popping up over the outreach table, to see who I was when I would get to work in the mornings. And he never growled, like some others – more like a “Oh hi, Elizabeth, it’s just you, good morning!”
Amber, wildlife rehabilitator: Chayton was an intelligent bird. I loved how (mostly) comfortable he seemed with every situation he was in. I sometimes took the opportunity to feed him away from the students because I liked to feed him so much! He was very particular about his food too. There’s a lot to say … easy to get along/work with. He was just the best.
Raina, outreach coordinator: Chayton just seemed to very easy going. Nothing really bothered him; he tolerated a carousel of birds in the Outreach room very close to him with basically no negative reactions. He was patient, except when it came to food. Chayton just seemed generally happy, which seems trite, I guess, but I’m not sure how else to describe it.
Lacy, development assistant: He had such a sweet, quiet, and trusting demeanor. Chayton wasn’t like any of the other birds at all. Edie has her own unique personality but Chayton’s was much calmer and surprising. He seemed curious about what I was doing and I’ll never forget the day he had surgery and wouldn’t stay in his crate. He fell asleep watching me. It is anthropomorphizing, but I hope he found some comfort in being able to see me not far away from him. It’s silly … he was a falcon. But so special. The most special bird I’ve met while working here … I probably think that because he is right beside me eight hours a day but he wasn’t like Ruby or the owls. He didn’t stare me down in distrust … he was simply sitting here with me like he would sit on a cliff or anywhere else. Always watching and seeming curious.
Sorry … I can’t really convey very well either … he just had a presence that impacted everyone. A sweet disposition that none of the others have.
Dr. Dave, veterinary director: I know this is anthropomorphizing, but in a lot of ways Chayton reminded me of a child. He was loud and raucous at times while inquisitive and quiet at others. He was always aware of his handler yet never made an aggressive move towards anyone. He endured incredible hardships with his condition but always bounced back and never seemed to hold a grudge even after multiple surgeries, countless bandage changes, and crazy perch contraptions. Chayton was part of the team. He hung out in my office on weekends and watched over the clinic. He was an officemate to others and ate, preened, and did his business in front of all without a care. In short, he was an amazing bird and will be missed.
Dr. Miranda, former veterinary fellow: Chayton could look at you and it seemed like he was reading your mind. I know that sounds hokey, but he had that look to him. And he was such a sweetheart and a trooper. When Chayton was on your glove, and you would bring him in to look at his feet he would stare at you and looked like he was asking you if what I was doing was okay. And he trusted everyone. It was so nice to see him connect with so many different people. I know this was ultimately for the best but I am just so sad.
Davis, former outreach coordinator: Chayton was excited when he saw people he recognized (likely because he associated them with food) and he was also quite calm around strangers. I know this was likely a result of all the time he spent around humans, but I appreciated this a lot – especially on our first (and ultimately last) night together at the Carter Mountain Orchard event.
I am really trying to be careful and not anthropomorphize Chayton, and I know when we love an animal as much as we loved Chayton this is always a risk.
I guess, if I had to try and summarize everything I liked about Chayton it would be like this: I think that when we work around animals at the Wildlife Center, especially education animals, we genuinely like them and love them, and Chayton was one of the few animals that I have worked with that seemed to share that opinion of us. I understand that a lot of this can be attributed to the amount of time he spent around the staff, but it still felt like he was actually interested in and fond of us. That is a rare attribute and I will miss him most dearly.
Randy, vice president: The Center staff tried so hard with Chayton. The vet staff … the rehab staff … and the outreach staff as well. It’s always dangerous to give human emotions and motivations to animals, particularly wildlife. But Chayton just seemed like he was "plucky" — he was going to do his best.
Chayton lived for the past few months outside of my office — in the large "outreach" area. And I frequently got to see Ms. Amanda get him out of his crate in the morning … to watch him getting fed … and to watch Ms. Amanda put him "to bed" at night. It was a great joy for me to watch the "bond' between Chayton and Amanda. They were, in human terms, good friends.
The staff tried so many different bandages and footwraps with Chayton. I wish y'all could see the special "pebble perch" that Amanda lovingly crafted for Chayton. It’s like a Zen-
meditation piece. It’s really cool! And ultimately Amanda and the vets and the rehabbers had the wisdom and the courage and the selflessness to say – enough. We tried. Thanks for taking such good care of our pal Chayton.
Dr. Dana, veterinary intern: Unfortunately, most of my experience with Chayton involved me treating him--and understandably, he was not a fan of his treatments. But after each treatment, when we’d put him back on his platform out in the outreach room, and he’d sort of shake it off and immediately go back to business as usual: just hangin' out.
Julia and I had fun setting him up in Dave and Rich’s office over the weekends in the fall. Whenever it had been awhile with no one paying attention to him, he’d hop down off of his platform and head towards the door (as close as his leash would let him get--a couple times he got all the way out the door) and look around for someone to chat with him. And it was always fun watching him do his little dinnertime dance, then tear his quail apart with reckless abandon.
I wish we could have fixed him. Or, at least, fixed his feet – the rest of him was just perfect.