I’m not REALLY a carer at the moment…..but….
Well….strictly I’m not caring for native animals right now…but this week there have been a few emergencies.
Last Saturday morning, while still in my jarmies, a lady came to my door in a panic. She had to go to Sydney for the day, and please could I help her; she had an injured bird, and didn’t want to go and leave it unattended, so of course in a weak moment I said yes. She rushed out to the car, and there in a cat carrier was a female king parrot. The story unfolded as she handed me the cat carrier. Her cat went hunting the day before, and brought inside its trophy, the parrot, which was still alive, but had lost all feathers in its tail, and quite a bit of skin. When shouted at by the lady, the cat dropped its bundle, which then skittled shrieking behind the washing machine. The poor lady then had to extricate said parrot without damage to herself or further damage to the bird. She finally managed to do this, and wrapped the bird in a towel and put it in the cat carrier, which she then covered with another towel, and put in a warm dark place. It was quite late in the day by this, and she lived a good distance from town, so she settled it down, and expected it to die during the night. To her surprise the next morning it was still alive, but then, seeing she had to go to Sydney, what to do with the bird?? Hence calling at my place…. So she left it with me, and I settled it down in the garage, and gave it some water, and went off to have a shower and then down the street to buy some bird seed. When I came back I found it asleep with its head under its wing, and when I put the seed into the carrier it displayed no interest. Not a good sign I thought, but after being chewed by the cat, I wasn’t expecting it to be in prime condition. So I checked it periodically, and it just kept drifting off to sleep, and later in the day I found it had gone to heaven.
The next Monday I was in the bank, and a lady came in asking could I take a joey. She didn’t think it was very well, but she didn’t want to leave it on the side of the road to take its chances. I agreed with her, finished my business in the bank and accompanied her to her car. She was by this time quite distressed, and when she opened the door I found the joey wrapped up in a blanket, and it was also distressed. Its breathing was laboured, and it was obviously not at all well. I had collected a pouch from my car, so I popped the joey into it. I said I’ll take this one up to the vets, and see what they say. She was very relieved, because she had no idea what to do, except help. I assured her she had done the right thing, by wrapping the joey in the blanket, it had given it some security. So up to the vets I went, and of course the vet wasn’t there, he was in Mudgee. So I said to the assistant, I don’t think there’s a lot we can do for this little one. She looked inside the pouch and heard the laboured breathing and said, no, it doesn’t sound good. Without disturbing the little patient too much, we ascertained quite a bit of head injury, so we made an executive decision that this little roo should go to heaven. She rang Mudgee and spoke to the vet there, and explained the situation, and he told her what she should do, and how much “blue heaven” (that’s the name we give the medication that sends them to sleep…another brand of the same thing is called “green dream”) to give. It was mercifully over quickly.
Then two days later, a man turned up at my door, with a sports bag that was wriggling. In the bag was a little male red necked wallaby, only little in stature, but quite well advanced in development. Of course I took this little one in; he had been found with his dead mother on the side of a road that wasn’t well frequented with traffic. Both of them were covered with ants, but his eyes were bright, and the injuries that he had appeared superficial. He was very traumatised, so I settled him into a pouch, and then rang another carer to see whether she could take him. I’m not really set up for long term care here, and I knew I was going away this weekend as well, and fortunately she said she would take him, but we couldn’t organise to meet for a couple of days. We both thought that wouldn’t be a big problem, because it would give me a chance to settle him down, and get him started on feeds. This little guy came with a name, Didg (short for didgeridoo), and because he was covered with ants, both the fellow who found him and myself thought he had probably been quite a while without food. So I thought I’d better get some food into him quickly. Now the first feed is normally quite traumatic, and often quite violent, because of the kicking and bucking that ensues, but this little boy was so grateful to get some tucker into him, that it was all easily done! The fun started after he decided he had had enough – he was used to just having a small amount, and then a couple of hours later he’d have a bit more….so I let him go, hoping I could get some more into him next time. Over the short time I had him, he gradually drank more each time, so that he went from being fed 3 hourly (during the day….I didn’t get up to him at nights) to having only 4 feeds a day by the time he left. And he left today, and he had calmed down sufficiently to have a look around from the safety of his pouch, after his last feed with me. So I have a good feeling about Didg. He has gone to good hands, and I think in due course he will be released into the wild.
One out of three doesn’t sound wonderful odds, but with Australian wildlife any successes are a bonus….
Mamaroo's Diary 