GRAY — Lawrence prefers women over men. He loves to ride in the golf cart, and walks in the park. He prefers chicken and mice over fish. He doesn’t like thunder and lightning.

And now that his adult eagle feathers have come in, he’s especially handsome, possessing that majestic, in-charge look of the country’s emblem.

Meet Lawrence the Bald Eagle, the ambassador of the Maine Wildlife Park.

“Sometimes we take him out for a walk. When we do we get swarmed,” said game keeper Pam Richardson. “People appreciate the eagle. He’s our nation’s symbol. He’s an awesome bird. He’s got a majestic face. His eyes are piercing like he’s the commander.”

Richardson has cared for Lawrence, named for a man who donated to the park, since he came in 2005 as an injured, fluffy chick.

In a severe spring storm he was blown out of his nest near Little Sebago Lake. The nest was high, 60 to 80 feet up. The tree had been struck by lightning.

Biologists found two eagle chicks on the ground, one dead, the other, Lawrence, had a broken wing. The break was so bad his wing had to be amputated. That’s left Lawrence unable to fly and hunt and live in the wild.

Losing much of one wing has affected his balance, making him prone to fall. But he can walk, run and hop up to 2 feet.

Eagle numbers growing

Eagles were taken off the endangered species list last year. Today experts estimate there are 500 breeding pairs in Maine, up from only 19 eagles in the 1970s and ’80s. Their numbers declined due to pollution, a loss of natural habitat and lead poisoning, Richardson said.

Eagles eat fish but if the fish have lead sinkers in them, the eagles can die, she explained with Lawrence on her arm.

He started chirping, soft at first, then louder. It was happy talk, Richardson said.

“Are you talking,” she cooed to the eagle. He was in a good mood, she said. “If he’s not in a cooperative mood, you can tell right away.”

She bragged about the skills of an eagle.

The beak looked threatening, “but it’s not as scary as his talons, his toenails. They have 1,000 pounds per square inch of crushing power.”

When eagles soar and dive after prey, they swoop down as fast as 90 mph.

“Their eyesight is so great, it’s like us looking through high-powered binoculars,” she said.

As youngsters eagles are nearly all brown, including their head and tails. In their fifth year, their head, tail and legs turn white; their beaks go from black to yellow. Lawrence’s colors came in this year.

Life at the park

Because Lawrence can’t fly or hop higher than 2 feet, he’s not on daily, public display at the park.

He lives in a large pen in a house that shelters orphaned newborn fawn and a moose calf.

His pen is on top of a hill and has an opening to the outdoors, giving him the feel of a nest. To one side Lawrence can watch bears, to the other geese in their pond. Outside his pen is a “Lawrence for Congress” poster on the wall from when Mark Lawrence ran for Congress.

He’s frequently taken out in the park for walks, especially on the Fourth of July. In the golf cart, “We put him on someone’s fist, tether him. When you get going the wind hits him in the face. He leans forward. That one wing spreads and he just flies.”

Because Lawrence was in frequent contact with humans from such a young age, he’s often comfortable perched on someone’s arm, usually a women. “He seems to like girls,” Richardson said.

That comfort has made Lawrence the park’s education bird, appearing at special events, such as the Native American pow-wow in August, the State House or Cabela’s. But sometimes he’s just not in the mood for a crowd, Richardson said.

Lawrence travels in the comfort of a custom-built, vented eagle box, Richardson said. “He’s kind of a spoiled eagle.”

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