Author: mamaroo43214595

While Millie was here over Christmas, Julie and I noticed the odd “wet patch” on the lino.  We could never quite work out which dog was responsible because it was never done while we were looking, and both dogs looked guilty.  We decided both dogs WERE guilty and there was a little bit of rivalry going on.  After Julie and Millie left, it ceased…for a while.  Over the new year weekend it started again…in earnest.  Obviously this time at least it had to be Gypsy, as she was the only dog present!  However, this was different.  It happened when she was deep asleep, and when she woke up and discovered what she had done, she looked deeply embarrassed.  She also appeared unwell, and refused to eat.  So I dragged out the rescue remedy, and managed to convince her she should have a little treat with some on, and by the next day, she was eating normally again….but still “wetting herself”.

This was very unlike her, normally she was able to sleep for 10 or 11 hours at night without having to go out.  I decided this could not go on.  It was obviously bothering her, and I had a lot of cleaning and washing to do!  Also, at the same time, Max had developed a wheeze while purring, and I had discovered a small growth on the pad of his front foot.  So….a visit to the vet was called for.  I decided it could wait for the vet’s normal visit on Wednesday, because no one was dangerously ill, it was just a nuisance all round.  So I rang and arranged the appointment and managed to get one for a quarter to one on Wednesday afternoon.

So off we went at the appointed time, with Max in the cat carrier, musically accompanying us all the way.  By the time we got there his eyes were huge and black!  He was not happy.  I got there a few minutes early, and we weighed both animals.  Gypsy was ok, she got on the scales with a bit of encouragement, but Max was weighed in his cat carrier.  Then, when he was seeing the vet, the assistant whipped the carrier away and weighed it without him in, and we subtracted that second weight from the first.  We discovered he is now 5.1 kg….just over 10 pounds, and roughly the same weight he was 12 months ago.  The vet was very pleased, and now we have to make sure he doesn’t get TOO fat…otherwise he will need his medication adjusted.

The vet examined him, listened to his lungs and heart, and felt his enlarged thyroid.  Then he looked at his pad and poked and prodded the growth.  By this stage Max was looking quite distraught, and started making moves towards escaping, so I held him down while the vet examined.  He decided that we shouldn’t do anything about the growth, but watch what it does.  He’s not keen on surgery on pads, because they take a long time to heal,   and it wasn’t worrying him…only me. There was nothing obvious to cause Max’s wheezing.  He thinks that now his medication has had time to work, he is actually over relaxing the muscles for purring, so again I just have to monitor the situation.

Then it was Gypsy’s turn.  She was overjoyed to find that the vet didn’t actually want to do anything to her;  he just needed to hear what was going on.  I told him the sorry tale, and he told me he thought it was a hormone related incontinence, quite common with older spayed dogs.  I remembered that we had had the same problem with Jessie, our wonderful black mostly labrador, and she was given a very successful treatment.  So Gypsy was going to have the very same treatment:  hormones for a few days, then a maintenance dose, probably forever.  Seems even dogs sometimes need hormone replacement therapy….:)

Gypsy was still watching the vet suspiciously, even when it was obvious the consultation was over.  Then the assistant came back in and got the “treat bottle”.  Gypsy was suddenly in a good mood, and the tail wagged madly!  She was given a few treats, and she was friends with everyone!

We went home, and that evening both animals lined up for their respective medication.  I had to be very careful that I gave the correct stuff to them!  That night Gypsy was completely dry for the first time for several days.  I noticed a new spring in her step!  Just as well, because that day, my new camera arrived (I had bought it online).  And of course I took pictures of them.  I am still learning how to use it, but I hope I will have it all sorted out by the time I visit Wendy…..

 

Even though we are really still only in autumn, I decided recently it was time for a fire. We had had a couple of cold nights, almost frosts, and though it was quite warm outside during the day, the house just hadn’t warmed up.  I had plenty of wood left over from last year, and plenty of kindling picked up (one of the joys of having eucalyptus trees in the yard, and nearby) and a friend had come round with some “inbetween” wood….bigger than kindling, but not as big as the really big stuff.

 

So I opened up the firebox of the heater, ready to set the fire.  I was quite surprised to find two huntsman spiders in residence on the inside of the door.  Quite large huntsman spiders.  Now I’m not scared of them, but they are large, and they are hairy, and they will bite if they feel threatened….and I was going to have my arms within inches of them, putting the wood into the heater.  Plus the fact that I didn’t think it was nice to close the door with them still on there, and have them cook in the fire.  So I got the broom, and “encouraged” them to move. One decided to squeeze between the door and the airspace between the firebox and the outer casing of the heater.  I thought oh good grief, I can’t really pull the heater apart and get it out, hopefully it will find a cooler spot and/or a way out.  So it was on its own.  The other one went to the side of the heater, and refused to move.  It just sat there, and waved its legs at me whenever I tried to move it on and flattened itself up against the heater even more.  So that one was on its own too.

 

I got on with building the fire, and started with the dried out leaves that fell from the eucalyptus tree.  They make excellent fire starters, and placed on the kindling, then some of the bigger wood, and lit the fire and watched proceedings.  It caught nicely, and I went out the back to get some bigger stuff for later.  When I came back in I expected the spider to have moved off the heater, but no!  Instead it was still there, but had “elevated” itself, so that only the tips of its feet were on the heater.  It looked really funny and reminded me of the spiders from miniscule!

 

After a while the fire calmed down and I put some bigger wood on.  The outside of the heater wasn’t quite so warm to the touch but the air around it stayed warm, and Gypsy and I were very happy with the heater.  The spider must have been too, because he didn’t move, although by the next morning he had moved to the opposite wall.  I have had the fire on a few times since then, and he hasn’t come back…… 

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….

 

Since my move, I have of course been bird watching.  Some of the birds have been the same, wattle birds, blue faced honeyeaters, magpies, blue wrens, currawongs, crows, galahs, and I dare say the ones that are missing will turn up in due course, or have been here all the time and I just haven’t seen them yet!  The one that is completely new to me (apart from the odd injured one brought to me to care for) is the crimson rosella.  Several times I have seen one or two sitting on the clothes line, or helping him/herself to grass seeds in the back lawn.  I often hear them even when I can’t see them.  They have a lovely bell like call.  They like to nest in hollows high up in the trees, and I have several very tall trees around me, so I’m hoping that they’ll nest near me.  Perhaps they’re even doing that right now, seeing it’s spring.

After some investigation, I found out that male and female crimson rosellas are similar except in size.  The male is bigger.  Both are a beautiful crimson, with blue tail feathers, and blue and black feathers on their wings, and a scalloped pattern of black on their backs.  The young birds have some green on them, which they lose as they age.  They are usually seen in pairs, or small family groups, but when the young are old enough to be kicked out of home, the young ones band together for a while.

They eat seeds, nectar, fruit, young shoots of plants, flowers, nuts and the odd insect.  I won’t feed them, unless we go back into drought and then they’ll need some help;  but they’re very welcome to any seeds in my garden, or lawn.  They prefer to live in forests up in the mountains along the eastern sea board of Australia.  It seems Kandos is close enough to the mountains to satisfy them, and I’m very happy about that.  

When it’s breeding season, the male birds sits on a prominent branch and “displays”.  He sits up tall, and ruffles his feathers and shakes his tail.   He also chatters away, singing to her. The female then, if she appreciates his attentions responds in a less animated way and they then get down to the serious business of forming a permanent bond, and preparing their nest, and in due course, laying eggs and raising some chicks.  The nest is lined with wood shavings and dust.  The female incubates the eggs for about twenty days, then once they’re hatched, both mum and dad care for the young.  Once the babies have reached about thirty five days old, they leave the nest and go on their maiden flight, but stay with their parents for another thirty five days or so, but then they are given their marching orders.

I happened to look outside a couple of days ago when I thought the rosellas were being particularly noisy, and saw a young male bird singing his little heart out, shaking his tail and ruffling his feathers.  He was sitting near another bird, and I can only assume it was a female, and the object of his affection, but she seemed less than impressed, and flew away…

 

(Warning!!  Do not read any further if spiders give you the creeps!)

 

Australia is home to many spiders.  Some authorities say as many as 20,000, although not all have yet been scientifically identified.  It seems only just over 2000 have been classified so far.  But still that’s an awful lot of spiders.  Most of these are pretty harmless to humans and keep pretty much out of our way, and are actually beneficial because they eat insect pests.  There are a few however, that are seen often, and some actually share our houses with us.  Others live outside, but come inside from time to time, and generally scare the heck out of us. 

One that scares a lot of people is what we call a Huntsman spider.  It has several “nicknames”:  triantelope, triantiwontigong, and tarantulas (which are completely seperate).  They can grow to be large, up to 15 cm (about 6″) across their legs, and they can move really fast.  They normally live under the bark of trees, between rocks, etc, but occasionally they wander inside, and unless you actually try to pick one up, or something equally silly, they won’t bite you.  However I can remember, as a girl, my mother’s reaction to them….she would become a blithering idiot if they were in the same room as her.  I was constantly called on to remove the poor spider.  I might add that when Mum and Dad were on their honeymoon, while bushwalking, a brown snake ran over Mum’s foot while they were standing at a lookout.  She didn’t turn a hair, and Dad was very impressed at her coolness.  I can remember another time that a huntsman had come inside at home, and was descending the wall.  Felix, our cat at the time thought he was worth playing with, and started batting at him with his paw.  The huntsman changed his mind quick smart and stayed out of his reach. 

There are also plenty of spiders loosely called garden spiders.  These include jumping spiders, little guys who actually stalk their prey and leap great distances to catch them.  Their prey consists of insects so no need to worry.  Also money spiders, more properly called flower spiders;  these brightly coloured tiny little fellows are considered to bring good luck if they walk on you, particularly on your hands, in which case you’re supposed to come into money soon after….I’m still waiting…..  There are also orb spiders, a bit bigger, and they build beautiful webs where they catch their prey.  I did take exception to one, which decided to build her web in my daughter’s bedroom, across the door of the wardrobe.  I escorted her outside, and put her in a bush in the garden, from where she made a new web and strung it between the bush and the verandah post.  We watched her for months, as she grew, and eventually she laid an egg, which when it hatched, had housed miriads of spiderlings.  She died soon after….  There is also a leaf curling spider, which makes a nest, and attaches an old curled up leaf to it, and hides in it until something gets caught in the web.

There are many many more spiders, including wolf spiders, net casting spiders, St Andrew’s Cross spiders, house spiders (they make annoying yukky looking webs, but catch lots of flies), mouse spiders, trapdoor spiders, whitetailed spiders (previously considered dangerous, but since exonerated) and of course daddy long legs.  They seem to turn up everywhere.  I usually leave them alone unless their webs get annoying, because they too catch flies and mosquitoes, but I did wonder why I would only find them down to a certain level in any room I found them in.  One day I discovered the reason…..Max, the cat.  I actually caught him reaching up as high as he could go to catch them…..and eat them.  Problem solved…..

Of course we must mention probably the two most infamous:  the Redback, and the Funnel Web.  The redback is a very shy, and in my opinion pretty spider, related to the black widow.  She has a conspicuous red hour glass shape on her back, and spins an untidy web, and loves to hide in dark places, like the underside of the old fashioned pit toilet seat.  Her bite is painful, and can be fatal to small children, if no antitoxin is used.  However these days, it is available as a matter of course, but you’re probably going to be sick for a while.  The male spider is much smaller and insignificant looking, and quite often doesn’t survive the mating process….although I couldn’t imagine she’d consider him a hearty meal.  I’ve had a couple of experiences with redbacks. One was actually in a bunch of bananas, and as I broke a banana off, she dropped on to me.  Just from reaction I brushed her off me and onto the floor, yelling as I did.  All the kids came running to see what was wrong, and when they saw her on the floor, ran for the fly spray.  Half a tin later, they stopped….the poor spider was white with spray, and dead.  Another time I was outside feeding roos in the half dark.  I had sandals on my feet, and as I moved around I kicked what seemed like a little soft stone, and it got stuck under my toe.  I wasn’t too concerned, thinking it was just a piece of roo poo, and I could clean myself up easily enough later on, and just continued on feeding.  By the time I finished, the offending object had worked its way right under my toe, and I walked inside and started to remove my sandal to clean my foot up.  Imagine my surprise when I realised the “roo poo” had legs….and as I lifted my toe, a tell tale red stripe.  Well!  Talk about panic.  I don’t think I’ve ever taken my sandal off so fast, yet so carefully!   The spider just stayed there, legs curled up, while I tipped her out of my sandal, and despatched her.  I’m quite happy with redbacks outside, given their non aggressive nature….but inside….or about my person….no way!

And the Funnel Web.  There are several different varieties, but only the Sydney Funnel Web is dangerous to humans.  It is aggressive, and will bite if provoked.  It generally lives outside in web lined funnels in the ground, but will come inside, like most spiders, at certain times of the year.  Lots of stories abound about them chasing people, but they are just stories, but seeing one in an aggressive pose is rather awe inspiring.  Like the redback spider, since the introduction of an antitoxin, there have been no deaths, but I’m still not volunteering to be bitten.  By the way, we have funnel webs where I live, but not the Sydney funnel web….whew!

 

 

A few weeks ago, I got a phone call from a lady who wondered did we have any members of our wild life caring group living near her daughter, who lived a fair distance out of town.  As it happened we had one, who only lived a couple of miles from her.  It turned out that the daughter had seen an injured wedgetailed eagle and wanted to get help for it.  She was sensible enough to realise that local help would be quicker than getting someone in town to come out.  I gave the mother the number and said there’s another gentleman who lives nearby, but belongs to another group.  I’m sure he’d help, if our lady is away, but of course I didn’t have his number to hand.  The lady said that she’d call her daughter with the number and if they did no good she’d ring back for his number.

 

About half an hour later, the phone rang again, with another person reporting the injured eagle.  I thanked them and explained that it had already been reported and someone would be assisting shortly.  A few minutes later, the first lady rang back and said our lady wasn’t home, had I found the other fellow’s number.  I had, and gave it to her, and settled back to hear what happened.  By this time it was getting onto late afternoon.

 

I didn’t hear any more till the next day, when I was down the street.  I met the daughter who had initially seen the bird.  She said even though they searched everywhere around where the bird was last seen, they couldn’t find it.  They were hoping that it had been merely concussed, had recovered and flown back to its mate.  She felt however, with its injuries that wasn’t likely, and said when she got home she would continue searching.  She had finally made contact with both carers, and they both said they would help her search.

 

At a meeting of our wildlife carers group held a few days ago, I finally found out what happened, when I spoke to one of the carers concerned.  It took them two days to find it.  It had walked through a hole in the fence and walked quite a distance and was trying its best to hide.  When they found it, they caught it, and found it had a dislocated shoulder, and badly broken “forearm”.  They rang the “eagle man” in Mudgee, who is the local expert, and they all agreed with great sadness, their only option was to put the bird down.  It would have taken a lot of surgery to try to repair the injuries, and no guarantee it could fly again afterwards.  Not a great option for a wild bird.

 

After this sombre discussion we thought we should get back on with the meeting and discussed the various things that we had to.  Our secretary then told us about her invasion of flies.  She decided to spray them which she duly did, but couldn’t work out why they refused to die.  She decided they needed another dose of flyspray and gave them another dose.  It didn’t kill them but made them very sluggish and they stopped annoying her.  Later she couldn’t work out why everything in her kitchen seemed to have a film of oil over them.  When it was time to prepare a meal, she went to get her spray on cooking oil and discovered it was almost empty.  Then she realised she had picked up the cooking oil instead of the flyspray and sprayed the flies with oil!  Of course we were just about to fall off our seats giggling so much.  It was a nice way to end the meeting…

 

Home I went and decided I should practice my new Irish tin whistle.  I’m not at all good at it yet, and make some very strange noises on it.  The dogs often look at me strangely.  This time, while practising my scales I hit a particularly bad note.  Max woke up, sat straight up in his basket and looked straight at me.  Then he put his head right down in the bed and “folded” his body over the top of it.  I had been told!

Over the last couple of days, things have been very stressful, and I’ve had a lot of running round to do.  Yesterday I was driving home from Mudgee after doing “stuff” up there, and still feeling wound up.  I drove up to the crest of a hill and was nearly scared to death by two eagles flying straight in front of my windscreen!  These critters have a wing span of 10 feet or so, so you can imagine I could see a lot of wings and feathers, and huge talons!  I braked!  And hoped!  And waited for a thud….none came, but I heard a sound like feathers scraping along the top of the car.  Well!  If I was wound up before, I was doubly wound up now….my heart was in my mouth….I looked in the rear vision mirror but could see nothing, no body on the road….so I turned round as soon as I could….this was a country road, and I was on double centre lines.  As I drove back I saw one fly off and land in the paddock.  If I hadn’t known what I was looking at I would have thought it was a kangaroo standing there, it was so big, but no sign of the other one.  So I drove a little further, turned round and came back again.  This time I saw the other one, flying across to join his mate.  They were both ok, so in theory I could calm down…..but in reality, it would be a while before my heart stopped pounding…….lol.

 

As I drove away, I was thinking what would I have done if one had been injured, but not dead?  With most birds, you can throw a towel over them, and then pick them up and put them in a box.  An eagle needs something rather larger, and also something very large for transporting it….But I didn’t have to worry, because both eagles were well and truly alive and uninjured.

 

I discovered the reason they were there in the first place was they were dining on their version of take away…..roadkill, so they were also doing their bit to clean up the road sides…….

 

After my return from my trip to Sydney, I was, as you can imagine, exhausted.  I had a nanna nap once I had got home and got the animals organised, and my dinner.  Then I had (for me) a long sleep that night, but by 10 am Sunday morning I was ready for a nanna nap.  Before that happened, while I was still in my jarmies, and hadn’t quite finished my brekky, my elderly neighbour rang, and asked me to help her put sheets on the line.  It was, in her opinion, going to be an excellent drying day, but she no longer has the strength to put the clothes on the line, hence her phone call.  So in I went in my dressing gown and slippers, and did the job for her.  Then, after I had my nanna nap (and I’d managed to have lunch), a knock came at the door.  I answered to find a complete stranger with an injured kookaburra.  The kookaburra looked awful.  So I found a box, and put him in it, and didn’t expect him to make it through the night.  He had obviously been hit by a car;  his right eye was swollen shut, and looked mucky, his head feathers were in disarray, and he was not at all interested in life.  So I put him in the spare room, and checked on him a few times during the afternoon (when I wasn’t having my next nanna nap).  Just before dark he improved a little, and stood up in the box.  It was obvious that it was an effort, though, because he was “listing to starboard” and constantly turning his head to look at me through his good eye.  Even though he was now in a condition to be fed, I decided I wouldn’t, because it was nearly his bed time, and it would be stressful for him:  I would have to force feed him.  I decided I would get him to the vet as early as possible….again if he survived the night….and if we could do anything for him there, then I would start forcefeeding him.

Morning came, with the promise of a freezing day, and even though the kookaburra was still with us, it was obvious he was unhappy, and unwell.  He was still leaning towards his injured side (an indication of a head injury), and his eye still looked terrible.  He was able to open it at times now, but the pupil was completely dilated, and he appeared to be blind in that eye.  So I took him down the vet.  Being Monday, there was only the assistant there, but I knew after we examined the bird, she would ring Mudgee, and talk to one of the vets about what we could or couldn’t do.  So she examined his eye, and the rest of him, then rang the vet.  A fairly detailed conversation followed, but from what the vet was saying not a lot could be done for his eye.  A one eyed kookaburra wouldn’t be able to find food in the wild, so we sent him to heaven.

I went home with the intention of staying inside in the warm for the rest of the day, and continuing with the cleaning up to get ready for my move, and another knock came at the door.  Another man with another kookaburra.  This one had also been hit by a car, and was being nursed (after a fashion) in the front seat of the car by his companion.  It had been wrapped in a towel, and was VERY vocal in his objections to his current situation.  The man said, “I think his wing is broken.”  So I advised him to take straight to the vets.  I explained if he’s fixable, they’ll pass him onto someone for care.  Off he went, and within a few minutes I had received a phone call from the vet assistant:  “I have a very cranky kookaburra, can you help me assess him, please?”  So down to the vet I went.  He wasn’t really cranky, he was just (in his opinion) defending himself.  Both of us were a little concerned, however, by the position of his tail.  He was sitting on it, which is definitely not normal in birds, and we were anxious about his having received spinal injuries.  The bird was sitting in a dog cage, and as we approached, he opened his beak to warn us off.  I grabbed a towel, not so much for protection, but I could cover his head with it, and calm him down (that’s the theory anyway).  Also, gives them something to hang onto besides bits of person, and if they decide they need to go to the loo, it lands on the towel, instead of your clothes.  

So, I picked him up, and took him into the consulting room.  Once I picked him up, his tail resumed a normal position.  We both heaved sighs of relief.  By changing the position of the towel, we were able to assess his wings as uninjured, and we also discovered his feet had a good grip on the towel, and when we prised them off, they and his legs were working perfectly, although one had a slight graze on it.  Then we decided we would look at his head.  His eyes worked perfectly, and his head feathers weren’t ruffled.  We decided he had only been hit a glancing blow by the car, and I would take him home overnight, and take him out to where he was found in the morning.  Then he made a break for freedom!

He flew out of the towel, over a room divider and attempted to fly through a closed window.  We rushed round (with the towel) and threw it over the top of him, where he was sitting on the floor, looking puzzled.  I wrapped the towel round him securing ALL of him, and tucked him in a bundle under my arm, while we organised a box for him.  The assistant told me where he had been found, and we closed the box…tightly, and off I went out into the cold.  It was at that stage around 6C outside.  Off I drove, and about 15 minutes later, found approximately where he had been picked up, and at the safest place I could find near there, I parked the car.  Then I walked down a track into the bush, so I was away from the road.  I put the box on the ground, and opened it, then unwrapped the towel.  He was hanging onto it tightly, but as soon as he realised he was free, he flew to the nearest tree, landing about 40′ from the ground.  He then turned and glared at me.  

Oh that was such a good feeling!  We don’t have a lot of successes in my line of business, and each one is just great!  However, I didn’t waste any time congratulating myself, it was still cold, so I got back in the car and headed back to the vets, to return the towel, and let the assistant know all was well.  She was also pleased, and I headed back to the warm….and a nanna nap!

 

 

For the last couple of weeks, things have been a bit hectic.  Some of the days have been pretty hot, which is enough of a pest in itself, and I’ve had a workman coming in every couple of days to do some maintenance on the house.  This has been brought about by normal wear and tear, and also the strong winds we’ve had lately have damaged the awning over the back bedroom, and one of the weatherboards on the back of the house fell off.  As a matter of urgency, a man came round to put it back, and as he was hammering it back on another one fell down!  So it was decided that whatever needed to be done should be done!

 

So far, I’ve had my rear screen door rehung (it was continually sticking), the venetians in my bedroom are no longer falling down, my side gate can now be opened without the aid of a battering ram (my mower man will be delighted!), I have new washers in my kitchen taps, and new grouting in the hall between the tiles there.  The problem with the grouting was that the workman used a type he wasn’t familiar with, and it dried much quicker than he expected, and now he has to remove the excess!  Still it’s all good, but it’s just meant I’ve had to reorganise my days to make sure I’m home when he calls, and I’ve had to rearrange my jobs so I’m not in his road, and he’s not in mine!

 

The first day he arrived unannounced, and of course I hadn’t had my shower, and was still in my dressing gown.  So I went and had a quick shower while he started work.  Then he arranged to come back a couple of days later, between 9.30 and 10 am.  I made sure I’d had my shower nice and early, and was just out, and partly dressed when the phone rang.  It was one of my former music students in a state of panic.  She and her brother had been getting ready for school when the cat caught a bird.  Her mum and dad had both left for work, and she didn’t know what to do.  She told me she thought the bird had broken its legs, so I suggested to her that she drop it in to me before she left for school, and I could take it to the vets if necessary.  She only lived about a block from me, so she arranged to meet me at my place in a few minutes.  I threw the rest of my clothes on, and went out the front, just as she was crossing the road.

 

The little bird was sitting in an icecream container, and its legs seemed to be pointing in the right direction, but it still seemed dazed.  I indentified it as a red browed finch.  After she handed it over, she rushed off to catch the bus, and I took the bird inside, wrapped it in a face washer (the bird was VERY tiny), and put it in a box lined with a towel and left it in a quiet place, and away from Max.  A quick glance showed it was minus a few tail feathers, but no other injuries were apparent.  I went off and did a couple of things, and came back about half an hour later to check it.  I lifted the lid of the box just a smidgin, and the bird shot out, and flew to the nearest window, and sat on the venetian blinds.  Well, I thought…wings and legs seem fine!  So I picked up the face washer and dropped it over the bird, and picked it up, and took it outside and let it go.  It flew off to the honeysuckle vine, and hid in there till it got its bearings.  An hour or so later, I heard it go, but I didn’t see it leave.  I’m assuming it worked out where to go….it only had a short distance to its home.  Later that afternoon I saw the young lady down the street, and she was delighted when I said the bird had survived and was released.  She felt sure it would have died, after the cat got it…and that unfortunately, is often the case.

 

Yesterday, I had to start looking after my friend’s cat, while she went away for the weekend.  She has a lovely garden, so I combine looking after her cat with enjoying her garden.  She has a lovely bottlebrush out the front, and the noise coming from there was quite loud.  I investigated, and saw several noisy friarbirds helping themselves to the nectar in the bottlebrush flowers.  They are very well named…they are VERY vocal.  You can hear them about a block away…and they look like friars.  Their feathers are various shades of brown, so they look as though they are dressed in monks habits, and they have bald heads, which makes them look a bit like tiny vultures.  Their heads are bald so they can put them right into the flowers and not get pollen and nectar stuck to their feathers.

 

In the same tree were several musk lorikeets.  Lorikeets are parrots, but instead of eating seeds, they, like the friar birds, and honeyeaters, like nectar.  There were a couple of adult birds, and a baby.  He was trying so hard to act grown up, but he was a dismal failure.  Mum and dad hung upside down from branches for easier access to the flowers, and when he tried that he got his wings tangled up in the leaves, and nearly fell off the branch.  He gave up in disgust, and begged some food from his parents…poor little mite, he has a lot to learn!

 

In the morning, I’ll go down and feed the cat again.  Hopefully I will be treated to more bird antics.  Hopefully this will refresh me before the workman returns this week…..