<p>I mean, seriously. Look at the sheer adoration on that face!</p>

I mean, seriously. Look at the sheer adoration on that face!

Settle in, gentle reader, and allow me to introduce you to the fascinating world of ornithology.

Ornithology, to me, sounds a bit like some sort of medical speciality. As in, “I can’t come to work today, I have my scheduled appointment with my Ornithologist.” Grim looks would be exchanged, before heart-felt “good lucks” and nods of sympathy in my direction.

Alas, as you probably know, that’s not what ornithology is at all.

Ornithology is the study of birds — and an ornithologist is a just that: a person who studies birds.

While not “formally trained” in the science, (my education stems more from David Attenborough documentaries,) I feel like I’ve gotten a bit of a crash course in the subject as of late, thanks largely to my 6-year-old’s newest obsession: raptors.

No, not velociraptors, I’m not talking about dinosaurs here. (After all, I said David Attenborough, not Richard Attenborough— that’s the guy from Jurassic Park.)

I mean regular, real-life raptors. Birds of prey. Eagles, falcons, hawks, condors — you get it.

Sam, the aforementioned 6-year-old, is completely in love with them.

Really, he likes all birds. He collects feathers, he draws pictures of them and he likes to sit on the front porch and watch the bird feeders. But his favorites — by far — are red tailed hawks. He made his own “wings” out of paper grocery bags and on most days you can find him running around in the front yard, flapping his arms and screeching his “hawk call” at the top of his lungs. (Our neighbors love us.)

His obsession is so great that last year over the holidays, he only asked for one thing: a red tailed hawk tail feather. That’s it. That’s all he wanted and he just had his little heart set on it. Which presented me with a problem, because you can’t buy them. Like, anywhere.

All raptors are protected by state and federal regulations. You can’t hunt them, you can’t trap them, you can’t own them (without special wildlife permits) and you can’t sell them — or their feathers. It’s illegal.

After much research on the subject, I discovered the only way I was going to be able to get Sam his feather (without resorting to straight-up poaching) was if I happened to find one while hiking in the woods. Not great odds …

I was determined, but it was weeks later before the internet finally offered up a possible solution — we were going to have to get crafty. Literally.

You see, I discovered there’s a whole community of artisans who take (perfectly legal) white goose feathers and then paint them to look like plumage from rare or protected birds. That’s right. I discovered a counterfeit feather operation.

You could get any kind of feather you wanted. Need a bald eagle feather? No problem. California condor? We got you. Wandering albatross? Well, just step right this way, kind sir … The painted feathers are used for a variety of purposes, but primarily to make Native American ceremonial headdresses, art pieces and dream catchers. They’re quite detailed and the paint (or maybe it’s a dye?) perfectly blends with the structure of the feather. In short? They look very real.

I selected “red tailed hawk” on the website and couldn’t click “add to cart” fast enough. TAKE MY MONEY.

Months later, Sam still treasures his red tailed hawk tail feather. He was truly the happiest kid in the world when he opened it, and the feather is — by far — my favorite thing I’ve ever gifted.

But now he’s asked for a real hawk as a pet for his birthday …

Anyone know how to paint a parakeet?

Kasie Strickland is the general manager of The Sentinel-Progress and can be reached at kstrickland@cmpapers.com. Views expressed in this column are those of the writer only and do not necessarily represent the newspaper’s opinion.