Tales from a New Wildlife Rescuer

Skin

2010-08-03T00:01:00.001-07:00

And now, Bluey is shedding. Look:

Bluey

2010-07-27T04:49:00.001-07:00

Look at this sad Blue Tongue Lizard:

He's all twisted and contorted. And of course he has lost his tail. Rather badly too.

The poor fellow was handed in by a kind lady who found him on the road near her house, stunned and unable to move. The vet did an Xray and to our amazement, nothing was fractured. She cleaned his tail as good as possible, gave him some anti-biotics and then handed him over to me with more anti-biotics for another five days.

I did not think he was going to make it. We were off for a few days to the beach, so this little fellow came on a holidays with us. I kept him in the laundry on a heatpad, nicely in the dark, and took him out into the sun behind a window for an hour or so every day. The little guy took his medicine with a bit of pineapple juice without too much complaint, but refused to eat. I wasn't sure how this was going, but to my amazement, he stayed alive.

He came to me in the last week of June. It is now the last week of July, and he's still here. And not only that. Look:

Not only is he still alive, he's eating!

When the weather is nice, he goes outside now into a nice big fish tank with some fake rocks for him to hide under and crawl around in. It has a heat pad on one side so he can regulate where he wants to go. When it rains (like the last few days) he comes back inside (in the kitchen, of course, doesn't every kitchen have a Bluey?) in the small tank. He seems to like it best there. He is now nice warm, and is moving faster and - being warm - is eating. And eating well. He especially loves meat (chicken and roo) and strawberries. He still tends to drag his back a bit, although he does move his hind legs.

I am not sure this little fellow can be released. Blue Tongues can lose their tails and it will regrow somewhat. Problem is that the tail is where they store most of their fat to get through winter, and as this guy lost quite a bit of it (damaging the spine) I am not sure if he has enough tail left. I hope to find out from my reptile co-ordinator in a few weeks time.

I would be quite happy to release him in my backyard and support feed him, but he doesn't strike me as the social type who will drop by for a feed. Thankfully there is another option. Our local council has a breeding programme for Blue Tongues and he may find a new home there, spending his life in a safe place, warm and regularly fed, with the only job of shagging lots and making heaps of babies, who will the be released as part of the Backyard Buddies program which aims to re-introduce wildlife into our suburban gardens. Not a bad life if you can get it.

And this little guy is special. Normally Blueys have stripes on their bodies. This guy does not. If he was bred in captivity, I could sell him for a good price to some reptile nuts who would love him for breeding!

I ain't selling' tho.

This one is a wild one!

Myotus Macropus

2010-03-04T03:44:00.000-08:00

Myotus Macropus.

Uh huh.

For all of 24 hours, I had one of those in my house. Endangered Species.

You know what they are?

My First Snake Relocation (1581; 1586)

2010-02-23T01:47:00.000-08:00

Finally!

Today was the day.

After the snake catching training last November (see previous post), today was the day I finally got my first solo call. And not one, but two calls. Yay!

I have had some calls before, but none of them resulted in an actual snake release. One call was a wrong phone number and address.

The caller, from a non-English speaking background, was so panicked that they gave us the wrong details. We never found the house, and they never rang back, so I guess the snake moved of its own accord. Other calls ended up with me at the address, but the snake long gone. Snakes tend to move around, and well, unless you keep your eyes on them, they are long gone by the time we get there.

But today, today I was lucky.

First call (1581) was a really funny one.

The family was moving house, and had two burley Islander guys packing up all their belongings. Nice looking boys they were too (bonus to the job!). A snake had been found in the rockery in the backyard, just about half a meter away from the back door. They had called the police, who had passed the call on to us.

So I pull up in front of the house, change into my long pants, long sleeves and boots, and walk into the house. One of the gorgeous removalist guys looked at me incredulously and says:

“YOU are the snake catcher??”

To which I reply: “Yep, we come in all shapes and sizes!”

Well, Mister Gorgeous was impressed. He took me to the snake, and he and his mate, and the house owners all pulled out cameras (or phones, I didn’t look that closely). The four of them positioned themselves around me, ready for the show.

The snake had half hidden itself amongst some rocks and wasn’t going to do a runner on me. Good! It was a rather big (and long) Diamond Python. Good! Diamond Pythons are not venomous and very beautiful snakes.

I manoeuvred it a bit with my stick until a fair size of the back was sticking out, and grabbed hold of it.

Mister Gorgeous goes: ”No way lady!” impressed that I catch the snake with my hand.

It took me a while to convince the snake to get out. As she noticed that I’m holding her, she tried to hide further into the rocks. And we’re talking about a big strong snake here. At one point I need to hold her with two hands. Eventually she realised that I’m not letting go of her, and she decided to come out of the rocks and moves towards me. This is my moment, and now it’s easy enough to hold her. As I move forward to bag this big snake, all four my paparazzi jump clear, the woman screaming.

Mister Gorgeous says: “Whoa, you are way cool lady!” and for a minute I didn’t feel my 42 years…

I think they did not notice my slightly shaking hands. Actually, I’m pretty sure things went well as the lady of the house said in an impressed voice “Ah, I can see you’ve done that heaps of times.” I decide not to tell him that it was my first solo catch after the training and leave the scene as if I do this ever day.

But the fun wasn’t over yet.

The house was across the road from Garigal National Park, so I decide to simply relocate the snake there. As I walked down, I passed a crew of tree loppers cutting branches along the powerlines. They were intrigued and wanted to know what I’m carrying in my bag, so I stopped to explain. They too were impressed with this boring middle ages lady who catches snakes. Two more burly blokes impressed with me, wow, what a day! They guys offered me some of their cuttings for my possums, and took a card with the office details “cos we come across lots of possums”. So I stayed and chatted a bit more, telling them about birds and possums and snakes, and hoping that they have learned something and call the office next time they find an animal that needs help.

As there was a house with a pool, kids bikes and a cubby house backing onto the national park, I decided to walk quite a bit into the bush to release the snake well away from the house. I found a nice rock ledge where I eventually let her go. But I couldn’t help myself, so I took some pictures. Look, here she is:

About two hours later, another call (1586). The office was called by a couple who found a baby red bellied black snake in their pool. Now, these guys can swim, but pool water is no good, so I figured I better get their fast. Thankfully I was 5 minutes away (I keep my snake gear in the car in summer) and the pool turned out to be empty.

The couple, Spanish speakers, were busy renovating their house and pool. They were not too happy about a snake in their garden. I took one look and realised this was not a red bellied black snake, it was definitely brown colour. But I did not want to frighten them too much so I kept up a running commentary along the lines of

“oh, hello, who are you little one? What are you doing here? Oh, you have a beautiful greenish colour on you. Don’t be scared now little baby. I will take you somewhere safe. Ah, yes, you are beautiful, nice green tint on you”

and as I bag it and secure my bag proceeded to tell them it was a darkish coloured Green Tree Snake – not venomous, not dangerous. A load of cow dung, because the snake is definitely brown.

The older lady living in the house asked in a shaky Spanish where the parents are. So I reassured her that snakes don’t look after their babies but send them off on their own. And having a little snake around means they probably won’t have any big ones, because big snakes eat little ones. This seemed to put her at ease somewhat, as she was imagining mamma and daddy snake (and maybe some aunties and uncles thrown in for good measure) slithering around her garden and house, looking for the little one.

Again, they lived close to the national park, so again I went for a little bushwalk and released the snake. I first put it on a nice piece of white sand so I could have a close look at it and take a photo. Look:

I’m pretty sure it’s a Yellow Faced Whip Snake, It’s venomous, but not considered to be dangerous. After I took the photo’s I picked it back up and placed it in the bush on the side of the small path I was walking on. Within a second it was gone, hidden away under some leaves, and I walked back up the track, a happy woman.

Yeah.

Today was the day.

Snakes

2010-02-19T02:14:00.000-08:00

Last November I spend a delightful day in the blazing hot sun, 40 degrees Celcius, with long pants and long sleeves on.

Yes, I did. You see, I got to go out to a gorgeous property out in the southern edges of Sydney, where Phil and Margaret and their boys live. They are two Sydney Wildlife volunteers with a passion for reptiles – and snakes in particular. Sydney Wildlife runs regular courses where you learn to catch snakes safely. And just in case you’re wondering, like all native wildlife, snakes are protected. They are not to be harmed, and must simply be moved out of harms way and deposited safely back into the nearby bush. In order to train people, snakes are collected for about a month (as in, not released immediately) so that we have some creatures to practice with.

First, you go through the safely aspects of handling snakes, and what to do when bitten. Then you get given your stick (to uncoil and move the snake) and a bag on a pole (to safely deposit the snake) which will become essential tools. Then the trainers place you in front of a piece of rope with a knot that symbolizes the animal’s head. The courses have a small number of people with a ratio of two trainers per apprentice. The trainers then show you the safe snake catching technique – how to prepare the snake, then pick it up and bag it. It feels a bit silly having to do this with a piece of rope but it’s very important to get the technique down pat before you handle any animals.

Then comes out the first real snake. It’s an exciting moment, and even though you’ve got the technique with a rope, it is quite a different thing to do it with a real snake. You just freeze and forget parts of the technique – especially when the animal does something unexpected. The old fear instinct is powerful one! Thankfully you’re allowed to drop the snake at any time if uncomfortable (you work on grass, so it’s relatively soft and doesn’t harm the snake) and the trainers start you off on Pythons and Green Tree Snakes, so nothing dangerous to worry about. And they have infinite patience, and keep yelling out the blindingly obvious until the technique gets stuck. And yes, it does involve picking up the snake with your hands.

After a morning tea the experience ratchets up a bit when the first Red Bellied Black Snake comes out of the bag. Again, you have to step over your fear – this is the first venomous snake to grab. If any of these guys bite, it’s off to the hospital, so serious stuff.

It’s funny how the snake ends up enthralling you completely. After a while a snake is a snake, and the danger is no longer at the forefront of your mind. Yet you find your eyes do not leave the animal until it’s secured – the animal takes your entire concentration – even in 40 degrees of blazing sun.

After lunch inside the cool house it’s back to work at the snake pit. And it gets hotter. Not only literally in the temperature, but also in snakes. Out come the Death Adders, the Tiger Snakes and yes, the Brown Snakes. It happens again, that moment of blinding panic, that “I don’t want to do this” and “what if I get bitten” and “what will happen my kids”.

And then you take your breath, concentrate, and just pick up the snake. Often it’s best to volunteer to be the first – just get it over and done with. Once you’ve done one, it gets easier. Also, the first time the snake comes out of the bag it’s still a bit more aggressive and that’s a good time to pick one up and get somewhat more “real life” practice. After a while the snakes understand that you pick them up, bag them, and let them go again, to then do it all over again. They become placid and tend to respond less (except for the odd cranky one that gets fed up and rears up at you, or does a runner towards the house, that is).

By the afternoon Margaret and the kids brought out more water and cordial to drink, ice cubes to put down our neck, icy poles to suck on, and water sprayers to cool our heads and faces. Its not just of comfort or fun. One of our guys started to slow down noticeably due to heat exhaustion – which can be fatal if you’re dealing with a deadly snake. Another had to pull out at the end of the afternoon as she was starting to feel sick from the heat.

Yet all of us progressed to confident snake handlers. I have not had so much fun in years (ok, well, a bit exaggerated). I found it a wonderful experience – both in terms of learning more about these fascinating creatures and in getting a useful skill. It’s also a wonderful experience to be taken right out of your comfort zone and do something that makes you tackle and overcome a fear. I even ended up with a favorite snake: the gorgeous Blue Bellied Black Snake – although credit where it’s due, the Green Tree Snake is pretty stunning too. And can you imagine my delight when in January we saw the Red Bellied Black Snake that lives under our pool slithering around in the grass beside it! I felt very tempted to go down and try to catch it for some practice, but of course I did the right thing by the snake and left it well alone, minding its own business.

I will try to post some photos of the day soon.

Microbats

2009-10-20T03:05:00.000-07:00

Very exciting! Last Friday, I got my first call from the Bat Phone.

Yes, the Bat Phone.

You see, in order to do bat rescues, you have to be vaccinated. And do the bat training. All of which I did. And now I'm waiting for the action.

As with all this wildlife work, you do the basic training and then the actual learning starts. You only really learn by doing it (ha, and making mistakes!) so its when the phone rings that things get exciting. I have a bit of a problem with non-vaccinated family members (especially those offspring, which are way too young to trust) so I can't really raise baby bats. I will be largely restricted to rescue and short-term care. Rescues can take some time (think fruit bats stuck in netting high up in a tree, or a baby on a dead mother on the power lines) which is hard to fit into my schedule. So imagine my delight when this call proved to be a perfect match.

I was on my way to a nearby suburb with the children for a play date. In the very same suburb, some workers had to remove an old power pole and replace it with a new version. The old one had been eaten from the inside by white ants (aka termites). As the guys chopped the pole down, they noticed little critters flying out of it, and one observant worker realised they were bats. He called the office, and covered the pole piece as much as possible with a variety of hankies, gloves, towels etc.

It was a funny rescue. The bats were about 10 cm inside the pole, crawling about in the termite tunnels that served them as a perfect nest. We popped my net on one hole, my and on the other, and I poked one finger into another to try to entice these little guys out. It took a while, but eventually I got all 5 out (it was a case of, "oh, there is another one. And another one").

The kids were getting a bit antsy, but I was quietly pleased. I don't think the electricians had any idea this was my very first bat rescue ever!

We made it to the play date and the beach all in good time. The next morning I contacted Tim, my bat coordinator. He asked me which species they were. I laughed. You see, these critters are about the size of the top joint of my thumb. And there are 19 species of microbats found in the Sydney area. I got as far as weighing them and measuring their forearms. And that was that.

Some of these microbats are about that size (top of thumb) when adult. Others are quite a bit bigger, and if they were those, my little ones could be babies.

So Tim decided to come straight over.

Sure enough, 20 minutes later he was there. With a backpack full of gear to help identify the species. He had a torch and magnifying glass, and a bat detector, which picks up their sounds we cannot here (and his machine can record the sounds too). He also did some extensive measurements (of, for example, the ears. Yes, the ears!), looked at their wings (the joints indicate adult or juvenile), felt them and checked their poo (and bagged it for further research). This man lives and breathes bats. And a lucky man he is too, having found a lovely woman who also has a soft spot for these incredible creatures and is quite happy to have them take over their lives (and living room - quite literally, when it comes to the time they teach their babies to fly...)!

Tim worked out they were a regular forest microbats. All of them female (kinda like with humans, the girls roost together), all of them adults, in good condition, and two of them possibly pregnant. He then fed them (squeezed mealworm) all the while sweet-talking to them, and decided they could be released back into their bush that very evening.

So we met up that night at dark (otherwise they are in danger of falling prey to birds that hunt at dusk). Tim and his wife were there with their bat detectors and recorders, and we had some fun time in the dark bush with our little microbat girls, letting them go again, seeing them fly off and listening to their chatter to each other, and their echo-location attempts to work out where they were. Beats TV any time...!

While Tim was doing his thing, I tried to take some pictures. These creatures are small, and getting their faces in focus in bloody hard. Here are my attempts. First you see them in Tim's hand - to give you an idea of their size - and then some close ups. The orangy thing on the right is the mealworm (head cut off and insides squeezed out).

They have a face only a mother coud love. Well, and Tim...

Cute eh?

Even more possums.

2009-09-22T20:55:00.001-07:00

And will you believe it? Even more possums!

By yesterday afternoon, I had a total of 3 birds, 1 adult ringtail possum and 11 babies in my care. A bit much eh?

I picked up a little girl in a street just up the road on Saturday. The family was wondering what their doggie kept barking at and finally found this little 65 gram possie clinging onto the garden fence for dear life. On Sunday morning we had planned to do the Bridge Walk and as this little girl needed regular feeds, I decided to take her with me. She must surely be the worlds only baby possum that walked across the Sydney Harbour Bridge!

Once home, a colleague came along to drop off four more possums as he’s about to go on a holiday. It took me a few minutes to work sort out who was going to buddy with who and which cage to put them in. And make lost of possum milk! And cut lots of foliage!

Thankfully I can pass three of these little buggers to another carer who has better matches (they get matched on weight, which indicates their developmental stage). I’m glad I’m not the baby ringtail possum coordinator – the puzzle of who has what and how to buddy them up is quite something, with more than 100 babies in care!

Tonight the adult ringie will go home to the bush, and tomorrow another bird will join our household (a juvenile Magpie to be company for the one currently with us).

Yeah, definitely spring.

Growing up - and growing bald (4641)

2009-09-14T03:40:00.001-07:00

This is what KC (4641) looked like when she came in. Frozen cold, emaciated, her tail a string of beads. I warmed her up, put her on rehydration fluids for 24 hours, did all I had to do according to my training. But I admit, I didn't have much hope for her.

But against all odds, she improved. Ate like a horse. But she developed an odd bald patch around her nose.

And then she started to go bald on her head too. And on her cheeks. And tummy.

Now, she's starting to look pretty bare. I've talked to some experienced possum carers and taken her to the vet. There is nothing obviously wrong with her. Her buddy, whom she shares a pouch with, does not have a bald patch on her.

The general consensus seems to be that my poor little KC has stress alopecia (aka hair-loss). We hope that this is a result from the extreme stress she must have been in prior to being found by a kind mother and daughter in a nearby suburb, who passed her on to me. We hope that as things settle down, KC's fur will re-grow. In the meantime I wonder if she will loose any more fur, and what on earth she will end up looking like...

More possums (4491; 4492; 44718; 4464; 4641)

2009-09-08T04:49:00.000-07:00

Yep, more possums.

As I have learned, August is possum month. In our area (Northern District of Sydney) we had a total of 106 baby ringtail possums come into care. Some of those came to me.

Still with me are Samson and Delilah (04314 and 04294). Unfortunately, their little buddy (04294) didn’t make it, she had been attacked by a cat, and despite antibiotics, she suddenly died four days later. Cat saliva is poison to most native animals, and there we never know which one will respond to the antibiotics and which one won’t.

Some days later I got a call from the office on my way home from school. A lady had rung, she had a wombat giving birth on her driveway. The office established after a few questions that it was in fact a ringie (now a wombat, that would have been exciting!) and she was not moving and quite cold to the touch. Hmm. Not sounding good. Ringie babies are about the size of a jelly bean when they are born and crawl straight into mum’s pouch after birth, so most likely this wasn’t a birth. I wasn’t too far away so I decided to take this rescue. In fact, I was there in 5 minutes and rang the doorbell to find a vaguely familiar face open the door. Turns out the lady and I had been to the same Early Intervention service many years ago with our oldest sons!

She took me to an upturned box under the carport on her driveway. Safely underneath was a dead ringtail mother with a youngster sticking its head out of the pouch, probably trying to work out what on earth was happening. I gently pulled her out and found a little brother under her. Both were quite cold, so I did what all mothers do. I popped them into a pillow case (there is always a spare one in my car) and wedged the babies safely into my bra where they were warm and dark, and could feel my heartbeat) under my T-shirt and jumper while disposing of the dead mother. The two babies (4491 and 4492) stayed there the rest of the day while I made a basket ready, turned on the heat pad (which takes a few hours to warm up) and gave them regular rehydration fluids after they had warmed up (a few millilitres every half hour or so). I then went to pick up my children from school and took them for a post-school play in the park as is our routine on a Thursday.

As I got home I found a mother ringtail possum with two babies clinging onto her back on the bathroom wall, next to the entrance ramp in our house. I knew that wasn’t right (possums are nocturnal) and caught them all and with some help from Oma Ine who had popped by, transferred mother and babies safely (and warmly) into a rescue basket while I attended the mayhem that is feeding and taking to bed three noisy kids. As it happened to be our day out, I only got back to them when hubby and I had come back from our (short!) dinner. I went to check on them, having readied a cage for them in the hope that mum was one of my soft release possums who was exhausted with her first litter of babies and needed a couple of days of rest and TLC.

Alas, I found mother dead and the two little ones rather bewildered, hanging on to their dead mother. I rehydrated them (at least they were nice and warm) and found a pouch for them. The babysitter named them Sandy (44718) and Danny (4464). They weighted in at 115 and 121 grams, and were reasonable good fits with Samson and Delilah (by then 135 and 133 grams) and so I placed them in their own pouch in the same cage. By the next evening, all four possums were huddled together in one pouch. Now, nearly a month later, they still are together. They have all grown (weighing between 220 and 180 grams) and eating and drinking well. They are easy to care for. They get their foliage (which I gather and place during the day) and their milk in the evening. Add some regular cleaning, and that’s that. They have moved into a drey in the aviary (after some days of acclimatising to being outside) and are quite playful. Some nights, watching them climb all over the branches and ropes in the aviary is definitely better value than what my TV set offers.

The two babies, which my 4 year old niece named Rafael and Bundy, were joined two days later by another little emaciated chestnut coloured girl called KC (4641). These babies, they are a bit more work.

Rafael and Bundy came in weighing 60 grams. They lost quite a bit of weight in the first days (quite normal, seeing the stress and having to get used to lapping from a dropper or dish being held by a human rather than mum’s teat). Rafael in particular lost lots of weight, and struggled to regain some. They were at an age where I had to toilet them (normally mum would lick their vent, I use a tissue) and Raffe never got rid of his toothpastey poo. They need toileting after every feed, which is between 4 and 5 times a day. KC came in at 60 grams too, but it was clear that developmentally she was older than Raffe and Bundy. I held little hope for her. She was stone cold, skinny as anything, with her tail all knobbly. Yet despite my pessimism, she pulled through and is now a healthy 80 grams and eating like a horse. Rafael didn’t make it. His poo never improved and last Wednesday turned into a really nasty, yukky and smelly diarrhoea. He went off his milk and back to rehydration fluids, but to no avail – he died later that evening. After the death of her brother, Bundy refused to eat for two days. I ended up having her back on half hourly rehydration, and thankfully she decided to persevere. She’s now back on milk, drinking again, pooing in pellets and slowly gaining weight,

Both babies are not yet in safe territory. As you can see KC has an odd skin condition where she seems to loose fur, especially around the nose and chin and between her ears. I tried some mite and lice products, but no improvement, so I’m taking her to the vet for a check up. Bundy is still a fussy and slow eater, and until she’s fully self feeding and toileting, I am not relaxing about her. These two guys are still together, and travel everywhere with me as they need regular food. I have become a bag lady – I carry a small shoulder bag with possums (and a heat pad, thermometer, a thermos with cool possum milk, a dish and a syringe, tissues and anti-bacterial hand wash).

I'm off now. Time for the last feed and bed...

Ducks (4811; 5543 to 5547)

2009-09-08T03:49:00.000-07:00

A lady in my suburb rang the office. She had some ducks in her pool. Well, yes, that happens. There were some ducklings too. Ah, yes that explains it. The family was on the move, and the littlies got tired and decided to have a rest on the nice pool. They would more along soon enough. But well, the cat had eaten two ducklings. Well, maybe could the cat be taken inside? Sure, but we still want the ducks removed. They poo in and around the pool. Yeah, they do that…

So I was sent to collect a family of Wood Ducks.

I took my scoop net, some gloves, towels and two baskets and set off. I arrived at a grand old house with broken glass on the floor, a big pool with brightly coloured floating lamps and a fancy looking marquee in the tennis court. They'd had a 21st birthday party the night before, and were still a big hung over and not too pleased with the unwelcome wildlife. The lady of the house took me to the pool while her husband stood in the back of the garden clipping a hedge without so much as a "hallo" to my greeting. So I set about catching the 4 remaining ducklings. Now, wasn’t too hard if you ignore mummy and daddy duck flying into your face and trying to bite your hands, viciously attacking you to defend their precious babies. Can't blame them, can you?

Once the ducklings were safe in one basked, the hard work began. Have you ever tried to catch a healthy wild animal? It's impossible. Now we do have a little trick up our sleeves in here, so I asked it they had a shed I could use (looking at one behind the hedge that was being clipped). No.

Hmm, not too good. I put the babies in a bit of a corner to coral mum and dad but there was no way I could catch them. I then asked if there was a garage we could use. After some doubts that was ok. By then the newly 21 year old and her brother (or boyfriend, who knows) had joined us (and at least she seemed upset that her cat had killed two ducklings). I took the basket and myself inside the garage and told the family to stay to the side. The ducks didn’t' like it one but, but eventually they waddled into the garage looking for their ducklings. They weren’t even properly in when the woman tried to close the noisy metal roller doors- spooking mamma and daddy, who promptly ran, even flew off! There was no way they were going to come any where near that garage ever again. Back to square one.

Thankfully the family started to realise that this would take mamy more hours at this rate (and I did mention my might have to let them finish the job themselves as I had to go and take my son to his swimming lesson). The woman conceded that yes, maybe, it was ok to use the shed (maybe because her husband had disappeared from the garden?) It took less than five minutes.

I placed the basket with the littlies into the shed and hid behind the door. Mum and dad came looking for their offspring in no time, and I closed the door behind them. Now it was easy peasy catching them. One went into the basket with the ducklings, the other one I carried under my arm to the other basket. I was out of there in a flash – much to their relief I think ( and I did not go with their suggestion to take the two dead ducklings, Their cat, their problem).

The lady went to clean and tidy the shed while I drove home – just in time for Beaver to go swimming – and released the duck family next to our pool. They soon waddled off towards the creek, happy to be reunited (be it minus two) and left in piece. I wished them luck on the rest of their journey. All's well that ends well.

Possum Rescues (04314; 04294; 44680; 04406)

2009-08-25T04:53:00.001-07:00

It was my day in the office. There were 3 others there, taking the phone, and there was a steady tricky of calls. Just as I had come in, a possum with a baby needed rescuing from someone's backyard in a nearby suburb. With plenty of people on the phone, I decided to just go and do the rescue instead, so off I went. I arrived at the house and was taken to the backyard pool area. There was maybe a meter of ground between a well kept pool and a wooden fence. It was planted with tall conifers.

Mother ringtail had dug a bit of a hole under the fence where she was trying to hide. Her tail looked bloody and her hind legs were stretched behind her, a sign that she had dragged them along. Near her was a little baby. As I approached it ran of into the conifer trees. Bad news!

Mum was unable to move much and just tried to crawl further under the fence. The owner of the house did some quick thinking and handed me his pool scoop. I caught baby possum fairly easily with it on my first attempt and put the baby safe into my rescue basket with mum.

Unfortunately the daughter of the house noticed a second baby possum further up in the trees. This is not unexpected as ringies tend to have 2 or 3 babies. We tried to catch this little guy with the pool scoop but no way, the poor thing was so petrified it followed its instincts – to get as far away from us as possible. Within minutes it was up a 4 meter high tree – and I would have attempted to climb it had it not been in the neighbour's yard and had rather skinny looking branches.

So sadly, I had to leave this little baby behind. I can only hope that someone will find it and hand it in when it starts to get weak (as it still needs mum's milk to survive) before it dies of hunger or get attacked by another animal.

Anyway, at least one little possum baby (04314) was safely in my rescue basket. I took mum and baby to the vet and went back to the office. You see, vets look after injured native wildlife for free, so I like to leave animals with them to see in their own good time).

I wasn't there long when the next possum call came in. This one was from fellow wildlife rescue organisation WIRES. A kind railway worker had reported a possum on the railway tracks at Lavender Bay, behind Luna Park. WIRES had no one available in that area and as we don't like to leave animals on railway lines, they rang us to see if we could help.

I took down the details and started ringing around our volunteers in the North Sydney area. I spend some two hours ringing around, with no one abele to go and pick up the possum. We have some people working in that area, but no one had gear (like towels, rescue basket etc) with them, and you needed a car to get there.

In the end I went myself. I knew it would take an hour tops and it might be more time-efficient than ringing a fast dwindling list of people. And with plenty of people in the office I wasn't that necessary there.

So I borrowed a cage and some old towels from the office and off I went. It took me a while to find the railway worker, but when we found each other (long live mobile phones) he took me up to the tracks (which were not live, so don't worry).

I soon saw a big brushtail possum (04406) huddled by the side of the tracks, oblivious to everything, including the spectacular view over Sydney Harbour. As I came closer and tried to grab it with my towel it threw itself off the embankment, rolling in an un-coordinated wary. Clearly not a well possie. I clambered down and picked it up – it had no more fight or flight left in it – and went to pick up my kids from school.

On the way home I stopped off at the vets. My ringtail mother and baby from that morning had been seen. The baby had been declared healthy but unfortunately, mother possum had to be euthanized as the spinal injuries she had received, probably from a car crash – were incurable. He had time to look at the brushy straight away – and apart from a small leg injury and a concussion she was ok.

My little baby girl did not want to drink any milk that evening, so I gave her some rehydration fluids (which she took well) and I settled her in a little pouch. The big brushy girl showed some interest in good (especially fruit!) and slept for a whole night and day. The next morning she was much chirpier. The day after she was fine, she barked at me and tried to bite me, all good. Her leg wound was healing well after some regular cleaning, so I released her some days later (and got to enjoy that beautiful view at Lavender Bay again, this time at night).

My baby ringie is still with me, and probably will be for a while yet. She weighted in at 102 grams and will have to get to 400 grams before she can be released. She has a little buddy(04294) now (unfortunately not her sibling) that came in some evenings later. They are of similar weight and age (the new boy being 111 gram) and they have settled in well together. I have named them Sampson and Delilah. They are exploring their cage, lapping their milk easily now, and started to nibble on the native tips I give them. I put them in their own pouch, but this morning I found them cuddled up together in the same pouch, and all the milk I left overnight gone. Happy possum mum I am!

This afternoon I exchanged a baby rainbow lorikeet for another little possum (44680) of the same size to make it a little family of three. August is baby possum time. They're coming in thick and fast now!

Hopital Box (4050)

2009-07-28T02:38:00.000-07:00

That hospital box, it's good. But not that good. Got some changes to make to it this weekend.

It has a bit of a design fault - it's not entirely escape proof!

How do I know that?

I found out the hard way...

Sick

2009-07-07T22:51:00.000-07:00

I've been sick. Really quite sick. Walking around like a zombie and three days in bed kind of sick. With a chest infection and early pneumonia. Headaches, fevers, sore muscles, you know the type of sick.

I was not really able to look after myself, my kids, or my animals. So I've had to clear the decks.

My rainbow lorrikeet babies (2067 a&b) and another juvenile (3399) I had collected along the way) had become toddlers - they even look like rainbow lorries now - and have been taken in by my nectivore coordinator.

My sweet brushtail possum (a big friendly boy with stress dermatitis) was ready for release (having finished his course of anti-biotics and pro-biotics to follow up) and the brushie coordinator released him (44387) for me.

I felt a bit upset having to pass on my babies (although it was a huge relief too) and not being able to release my brushie boy. Thankfully they went to people far more capable than me.

Having crawled out of bed now, I have taken the opportunity of having absolutely no animals to make a new hospital box. I lost the old cage I used as a hospital box to the big council cleanup - my cage was sitting in the sun airing out, and it got taken by mistake.

Luckily, some days later I found a disgustingly old dirty wooden box on the side of the road.

I cleaned it up, painted it (with easy to wash paint) and put some perspex front in it. OK, I need to work on the "look" of those nails. But it works a treat, making it easy to slide the perspex in an out for easy cleaning, and yet secure enough to hold animals. It has a little hook for my heat lamp, and some sticky dots for my dual thermometer ( which measures inside and outside temp). And my heat pad fits in neatly too, with a little hole for the power cord. I just need to drill a few more airing holes along the side of the box, and it'll be pretty perfect! Not bad for a dirty old box eh?

Now, I'm waiting for the phone to ring.

Not for the squeaminsh

2009-06-18T04:33:00.000-07:00

I've harvested my first "crop" of mice. Look, here they are in their ziplock bags for the freezer. They need to be frozen for at least 6 weeks before I can feed them to my wildlife. It's a legal requirement, and it's all to do with animal health and welfare. You see, we kill our mice quickly, which is more humane for the mouse (you'll agree if you've ever seen a Kookaburra catch, kill and eat a mouse). And by freezing them for some weeks, we kill any potential virusses and bacteria the mouse may have had, which is good for the wildlife's health.

And mama mouse had babies again this morning (or last night, I'm not that sure).

Pygmy Possum

2009-06-07T00:39:00.000-07:00

Isn't this just the cuttest little thing?

We think it's a Pygmy Possum (still needs to be confirmed by the possum coordinator). It's not in my care, one of my Sydney Wildlife colleages is caring for it after her neighbor's cat brought it in. I was lucky enough to be asked to take a picture of it. Most are blurry -this is a shy and fast moving little critter - but two photos are sharp. I thought I'd share it with you all, as this is an animal you don't get to see every day (it's about the size of the top of an adult thumb0.

Right or Wrong? (3167)

2009-06-04T03:51:00.000-07:00

Here is a question.

I had this possum (3167) come in with a cornea injury. His eye looked ghastly, absolutely horrible, but the vet told me there was a good chance that it would heal. He gave me some animal antibiotic eye drops, told me to put it in his eyes twice a day and wait and see. The boy might lose his eye, but he just as well might make it. Well, one-eyed possums don't do well in the wild, but hey, if he figured there was a chance, well, I was gonna take it.

The vet told me the boy liked bananas, so Banana Boy he became, and into the hospital box he went.

For two weeks, he got drops in his eyes twice a day. And some calendula eye drops. And ground up arnica pillules mixed with his grapes or banana pieces. Lots of yummie fresh foliage. And the eye got better. Much better. See?

But then it stopped getting better. And with his uninjured eye not being quite right either (I had given it some eye drops too) I took it to my local vet, who's pretty good with possums.

As expected the verdict was bad. The eye was not healing well enough, and the other eye actually had some small puncture wounds too. Banana Boy was not going to recover from this, and would still be at best uncomfortable, at worst in pain.

So we did the only right thing.

Question is, should we have done this earlier?

Obviously you can't always know if an animal will recover from an injury, and I'll take fighting chance. But if there is discomfort or pain involved, how long should we try. How long with discomfort? How long with a bit of pain?

Mamma's babies (2067)

2009-05-25T20:23:00.000-07:00

When my friend Michelle asked Boo Boo whose babies these were, she answered "Mamma's".

Michelle laughed and said she didn't realise hubby had gone quite this fluffy - but yes, here are my two new babies.

Two little rainbow lorrikeets (both sharing animal record number 2067) that were separated from their parents and have ended up with us instead. They are just like human babies - they eat and poop and sleep. And cry for food in between.

Kind of ugly and cute at the same time no?

False experience (43971)

2009-04-19T03:04:00.000-07:00

As they say, a little bit of knowledge is far more dangerous than none. The same applies to experience.

My last few Tawny Frogmouths have all died from probably poisoning. This poisoning is not deliberate - it happens when people have a pest control guy come or use snail bait, and then the poison travels from the dead bugs into the Tawnie who has eaten them. The birds would not perch properly, rather they'd lean on their wings to keep them upright. Then they would perch one day and give me hope, but then hang on their wings again the next. As the poison spreads through their bodies, they slowly die.

So when my latest Tawny (43971) came in in good condition apart from leaning on his right wing, and not able to perch, I didn't have much hope. But then over the last week, he started to improve, and did not regress. He managed to get to the top of the aviary, and got quite cranky with me (he's the only Tawny so far who bit me and cut my skin drawing blood). But he kept leaning on his right wing. Isn't he gorgeous?

On Saturday I finally had time to take him to the vet (it's school holidays again!) and sure enough, he's broken his wing in the shoulder region.

The fracture is healing well, but he now needs to have his right wing immobilized for about three weeks, and then regain enough muscle strenght to fly again properly. The vet taped his wing with a figure 8 bandage and gave me some spare tape to take home. By the time we got there - and this is my local vet, so we're talking about 5 minutes, the bandage was off). I got Sanna to help me put it on again - only to find it off again later that evening. And yes, this is a two person job. This bird is now quite healthy, and as I said cranky. He bites, and he bites to hurt. So one person has to hold his head and keep his beak shut, while the other fiddles with the bandage. Fun. Not!

After a few attempts this morning I resulted, in desperation, to taping both wings for now. He can't move now, but thankfully manages to perch all right. I rang my coordinator, who, unlike me, has plenty of experience with bandaging Tawnies. We'll see what ideas she has. I mean, I used the sticky tape the vet gave me, I used some cotton one, an even used some cardboard to keep the wing in place. But Tawnies have such soft, well oiled feathers, this guy just flaps his other wing about and off slides the whole bandage... I know I'm no expert in this, but the vet's didn't last either. Still, I might have to go back for some tuition unless I hear from my coordinator (In case you're wondering: I'd rather not go to the vet. They treat wildlife for free, and I'd rather not take up too much of their time with unnecessary wildlife stuff, I'd rather keep them for when I really need them).

Back to the title of this post.

I saw this guy, and thought I knew what the matter was. Another poisoning case. I looked after him all right, but I was complacent. I should not have made any assumptions and taken him to the vet earlier to get his wing checked out. Sure, I picked him up from a vet (one I don't know too well) who said nothing was broken. But I know how hard it can be to correctly diagnose a fracture in a bird (which is why I go to my excellent local vet when Gretta or Simon are in, I know they know their birds).

But the point is, I made an assumption. A false sense of security has set in. Clearly not a good thing to do! Back to basics Heike!

Crazy Kookas (1969; 01976; 44085)

2009-04-19T02:30:00.000-07:00

The phone rang - the voice from the office told me about a bleeding Cockatoo in the street just up the road. When I turned up, I found a bleeding Kookaburra instead - it was the girl in the office's first ever day, and you'd be surprised how easy it is to confuse Kookas and Cockies when you're nervous.

Anyway, there was this bloody Kooka (1969) under a laundry basket in front of an immaculately clean windows. You see, Kookaburras are very territorial and do not take well to intruders. Not at all. Not even reflected ones. This big beautiful Kooka, most likely male, kept seeing in the windows just had to be chased away. It's just that you can't chase away your own reflection. This boy had been attacking himself in the window for 6 days. He had broken off the tip of his beak and most of his toes from repeatedly bashing the window and then falling on the hard tiles around the house. Amazingly, the owners of the house had not thought about temporarily putting something against the window to obscure the reflection (anything works, from a pot plant to a piece of newspaper). Only when a large pool of blood spoiled their beautiful tiles did they call us.

I picked up the silly bugger and gave him the once over - much to the awe and amazement of the house's owners, who were rather scared of the bird - and could find no further obvious injuries. I took him off to the vet regardless (with a bird covered in blood, I reckon it's better to get a professional opinion). Later that day Kooka came home with me . He ate well - excellent news for a kooka in captivity - and after two days of rest and good food, I let him go in a tree near the immaculately clean house. I had a quick chat with the owners and told them to stick something on the window if he came back, and ring me directly. Thankfully I have not heard from them - and they were glad the bird was ok. It's nice when people care!

While at the vets, another Kooka (01976) was ready for pickup, so I took that one home with me too. This guy was not too well. Found sitting in the middle of the road some kind person picked him up and took him to the vet. Again, nothing obvious was found amiss, and all was well after a few days of rest and recuperation. I was a bit worried about him at first. There is a new-ish virus around with Kookaburra's, Currawongs, Magpies and Tawnies. The birds have a bright red back of the throat (not bloody) and most die after a few days. I opened Kooka's beak (yeah!) but no redness in the throat. Excellent!

So probably another concussion then - this happens to birds, and they are pretty easy customers. Most concussed birds need a safe, quiet, dark place to recover. Water and food (with added vitamins, de-worming meds and a good old mite and lice spray) and after a couple of days, most are ready to go home. As was this fellow, who was released two days later.

At this very moment I've got another one. It's a small, skinny fellow (44085), who was brought in to one of the local vets by a an unknown member of the public (MOP in carer speak). The lady was in a rush and did not leave any details about where she found the bird, which is a bit of a disaster. As they are territorial, Kookas need to go back to where they were found; they will most likely not survive if let loose in another area. I've written to the local newspaper in the hope the woman will contact me, but I've not much hope. In the meantime, I'll try to fatten him up a bit, and hope that I find a solution. It was interesting that two Kookas came and visited him in the aviary today. Sometimes a local pair will adopt a young bird, so I will have a chat with my meat-eating birds coordinator ...

Possum weekend (43856; 43859; 2070; 2348)

2009-04-19T01:44:00.000-07:00

It was a possum weekend.

It started on Friday, when I noticed a dead possie on the road on the way to school. He was pretty dead, and being a boy, there were no babies to being rescued. I got back into the car, and two minutes later the office called to see if I could pick up a little possum from our local primary school. When I got to the school office I was shown to a cardboard box by a rather reluctant office lady. I opened it and pulled out a most delightful little chestnut coloured juvenile ringie (43856) . He was so sweet - the school office lady looked a bit disappointed that she'd been scared of it once she realised how cute he actually was. The baby was found near the school hall by a dad of one of the kids – he said mum was not around, so something may have happened to her. Reuniting ringies is tricky – most of the time the mothers won't take the baby back, and once the youngster is up the tree, it gets hard to get them back!

This little guy settled well in a little handwasher-pouch and drank heaps of rehydration fluids when I got him home. Later that afternoon I took him to a trained possum carer (young ones have very specific needs and they have to go to a trained carer. I'll be doing the training in June this year…).

On the way home came another call from the office to pick up an adult male possum from the vet. The boy is blind – hopefully only temporary – has a very low heart rate and is malnourished (43859). He's doing a bit better now. His heart rate is fine and he's gained weight although I'm still worried about his vision. While the eyes respond to light now, I'm not convinced he can see. I've been told sight can return after as long as 3 to 4 weeks after a severe concussion, and given the poor state this little guy was in, I'll give him the benefit of the doubt for a bit longer.

Anyway, believe it or not, the next day came another call for a baby ringtail who had been attacked by a cat and seemed to have some trouble with his hind legs (2070). The lady who had called him in had been too scared to catch him and had kept an eye on where he was hiding – in some clivia's next to her bins. The little guy was very frightened and feisty. I took him to the vet, who was not too happy about the legs (especially the right one) gave him a shot of anti-biotics for the cat bite and some follow up shots for the next three days. That evening I took him to yet another possum carer where he can be buddied up with others and may hopefully recover.

That evening our neighbours were picking a fight with a possum in the tree behind their veranda, shooing him away "because their wee wee stinks." Do people not realise having these animals on our doorstep is one of the wonders of living so close to the bush? And the next day I went to pick up a possum from a vet, which had died by the time I got there (2348). A possum weekend indeed!

Mind you, so far I've not had a brushtail possum, ever. I wonder when… Hang on, is that the phone ringing?

Bird Whisperer

2009-03-30T22:04:00.000-07:00

I got this bower bird (01381) which was not doing well at all. She's very uncoordinated, can't fly (she does the super-hop rather than flying) and very frightful. She was found in a pond with a dog barking next to her, and the dog and pond owner captured her and took her to the vet, who gave her the once-over. He found nothing broken, so he handed her over to us. But after two days of watching her, it was clear we were dealing with a bit more than a concussion so I made some inquiries t o find someone who knew a bit about bower birds. No one seemed to have much experience with them in care, but in the process of taking to loads of Sydney Wildlife people on the phone I was told about an amazing bird vet, Ross Perry, one of Australia's top bird specialists. Lucky me he lives in Sydney, and not all too far from where I live. I gave him a call and he agreed to see my bower bird.

So off I went. And had a wonderful morning watching this amazing man examine my bird. He steadied himself, picked up the bird, and very calmly and very gently ran his fingers over ever piece of skin, bone and feather. He examined every little joint. He checked the birds' skin by moving the feathers out of the way, he examined her beak and eyes and feet. He spend over an hour with her, all the wile softly taking to her, calming her down. By the time he was done, he gently put her on he back on the scales and she just laid there, eyes half closed. Amazing!

The verdict was not too good. My little beauty had some neurological problems – be they temporary or permanent - and was likely to stay with me for some 4 to 6 weeks to see if she would recover. She also had mites and lice, and threadworm, and on closer inspection Dr. Perry found the dog had bitten her and punctured her lungs. She had recovered relatively well from the puncture, but had to go on anti-biotic drops twice a day for 4 to 5 days.

After I came back from Dr. Perry I sprayed the bird and aviary for mites and lice, and went to my local vet for a threadworm injection (and I administered my first subcutaneous injection to a wild bird, I did) and stared her on her anti-biotic drops.

A week later a vet check-up found no more threadworm eggs in her droppings, and we were asked to come back for a follow up injection in two weeks time, and we had got rid of the mites and lice, and the anti-biotic drops were done. All was going well. And then a couple of days later I found her dead in the aviary. Some wild birds just don't like being cooped up. Or maybe her neurological problems were too much to deal with after all. It was a crying shame to see my beautiful bird dead, especially after all that hard work we put into her.

But I have to say, I'm glad this bid came along and brought me to Dr. Perry. Just watching him has changed the way I hold birds and check them when they come in (except cockatoos, I don't trust those guys with their beaks!). I would love to see him at work again. Just to watch him was absolutely remarkable. I wonder if he'd like an apprentice (you know, in 10 years time, when the kids are out of the house…)

Confession

2009-03-23T20:26:00.001-07:00

Ok. Time to confess. I did a terrible thing. I killed a baby crested pigeon that was in my care. Not on purpose, of course, But I did it, nevertheless.

This little bird came into my care some weeks ago. It was a sweet little thing, very small and skinny, with down feathers and unable to fly. I had been feeling it for some days, and it was doing quite well. You may remember a currawong I had a while ago. She did very well until I decided to get her ready for a soft release, and after about an hour or so outside she died, possibly from the shock of release after being in the aviary so long. So I figured I should learn from that experience and try to prepare this little pigeon a bit better and take it outside for short periods of time. I had some laundry to hang up and popped it in the grass next to the laundry line. It was happily wandering around, scratching in the grass. I kept an eye on it of course, and it was happily exploring the world that is our backyard (well, side yard really). The last time I looked down it was walking away from me. I hung up some bed sheets, and looked down again. Only to see it withering right under me. Oh my! I was totally mortified.

It had walked up to me without me noticing and I must have stepped on it. I hadn't felt a thing. You cannot imagine how petrified I was. I picked it up, but there was nothing I could do. All I could do was hold it gently in my hand while it died. What can I possibly say? I felt like chucking in the wildlife care there and then.

I haven't, though. In the end, it's all learning – like don't do the laundry when taking a tiny baby bird for walkies, duh!

The bird had died in any case if it had been left in the wild. Stopping this work is not the solution. The solution is to do it better. To aim to improve and learn and not make stupid mistakes. So I'm still here. And I'm 'fessing up, in the name of honesty, and in the hope that someone who reads this may not make the same mistake I made.

I still think about this poor little pigeon. I still can' believe I did that!

Ringie (01343)

2009-03-14T15:22:00.000-07:00

Is't he a lovely boy?

This little ringtail possum came into my care about a week ago.

When he first came in I wasn't sure if he was going to survive. He was very lethargic and after some advice from my ringie coordinator I gave him re-hydration fluids every half our or so for a day. He visibly perked up that day, and that night he ate some of the food I left for him and drank all his water.

He's been steadily progressing - from hospital box to big cage to aviary - and now that he's happy moving around and getting his food, he's ready for release. Last night we had a big storm. Not the best conditions, so he stayed put. I will return him to the wild tonight, weather permitting.

There is a bird in my kitchen what am I gonna do? (01381)

2009-03-14T02:36:00.000-07:00

Look. I've got another Bower Bird (01381).

Aren't they just the most beautiful birds? They surely must have some of the world's most stunning eyes...

This little lady was found in the next suburb, stuck in a pond. The owner of the pond was alerted to the bird by his dog barking madly - well, that's his story anyway - and took the bird in to the vet. I'm quite confident calling this one a female, as the juvenile male has a lighter beak, and this little beauty has a very dark beak.

She's doing quite well, eating and drinking and hopping around - the only reason she's still with me is that I'm not entirely confident about her flying ability. When I let her out of her cage, she madly tried to hop away from me, and did a great "disappear behind the fridge" trick but she did not fly. Now this is a bird that largely lives on the forest floor, but still, it's a nomadic bird that should be able to fly properly.

Wait and see...and enjoy her beauty. Aren't' we lucky here in Australia, with such wonderful wildlife?

Do you kow what it is? (43430)

2009-03-10T03:58:00.000-07:00

Go on.

Have a guess.

It's a sweet looking bird, don't you think? He was with me for a few days (with concussion).

Pinecone Released (01513)

2009-03-08T19:16:00.000-07:00

Yes, you've read that correctly. Pinecone (see previous post) was released last week.

The folks at Taronga Wildlife Hospital did the impossible and cleaned up Pinecone. They put her under a general, picked all the stuff off her, and then cleaned her with some strong dissolving stuff for the next few days, bit by bit. And as Pinecone's feathers became visible, it showed that she was in fact a he. Juvenile Bowerbirds look just like females and only after a few years do they start to change plumage into boy colours. Pinecone had just started...

Turns out the sticky stuff was from a tree called Bird Lime Tree. Some birds like the fruits, and don't realise how dangerous the sticky substance in them can be... This tree has been implicated in the near eradication of the Goulds Petrel.

Imagine my surprise when Taronga called to let me know they would release Pinecone, and would I like to come. Sure thing! I wouldn't miss it for the world. I couldn't believe they managed to clean him up!

We organised it for the next day at lunchtime, and Hubby came over to work at home while Boo Boo was having her sleep.

As it turned out, a film crew had been filming the cleaning process, and came along to film the release too. So, with a bit of luck, if Pinecone gets chosen, you will see his amazing story on TV in the next few months. Look out for a programme called "The Zoo" on Channel 7.

Pinecone (01513)

2009-02-22T19:18:00.001-08:00

Look at this poor bird (01513).

It's a female Satin Bower bird. She's covered in some yukky, sticky substance. It almost looks like glue. Who knows what happened to her. She looks like she jumped into a vat of glue and then went for a walk in the forest; she's got leaves, twigs and sand sticking to her feathers everywhere except, thankfully, hear head. Of course the poor thing can't fly, and she's pecking in a desperate attempt to clean herself - and all she manages to do is pull her feathers out.

I got her from my local vet last night. They tried to wash the poor thing with some detergent, but nothing came off (well, except whole feathers that is). They handed her over to me with a sincere "good luck!" They had named her Pinecone, because she just simply looked like one!

I was no more successful at cleaning her. Sure, I tried, but it was hopeless. So I rehydrated her with lectade and then water, and gave her some fruit to eat (she tucked into the blueberries and grapes, but stayed well clear of the rockmelon). She was not happy and kept trying to hop away from me. I dried her with a towel and heat lamp, and gave her more fruit to distract her from picking her feathers. I kept her dark and warm overnight, and that was about all I could do for her.

This morning I took her with me to drop the boys off at school - and then Boo Boo and I continued to Taronga Zoo. They have a Wildlife Hospital there, and a poor bird like this needs specialist care. So I handed in Pinecone for some serious cleaning and care.

And sure enough, while Boo Boo and I were enjoying the little train ride next door in the zoo (well, she was, she waved at everyone, human and animal) the receptionist rang to let me know they were having success getting the stuff off. In order to minimize stress, they will do little bits every day.

I wasn't sure this little lady would make it, but she seems to have a chance now. I hope Pinecone can be released into the wild -but if not, she'll find a nice new home in the zoo. I'll keep you posted...

Black Beauty (43579)

2009-02-20T19:33:00.000-08:00

Look at this little beauty.

Hello!

She's a long necked turtle (also known as snake neck turtle) who was found wandering in a busy university car park and taken to the vet. There was nothing wrong with her, so after a day of observation to confim that she was indeed all fine, alert and healthy, I released her in a more suitable spot.

Friends of ours have turned their backyard pool into a thriving pond, full of wildlife. They back on to Ku-ring-gai National Park, and have a creek running behind their garden, so if the turtle is not happy in her new pool2pond, she can simply wander over to the creek. I think she will be very happy there!

Cat attacks (763; 1165)

2009-02-16T18:07:00.000-08:00

I like cats. I do.

But I do not like irresponsible cat owners.

Here in Australia, cats are an introduced species. Not only do native animals not have any instinctive fear of cats, some are also highly allergic to cat saliva - it's basically poison to them. Anyone living near bush should either have an indoor cat or buy another pet. Any cat, in the suburbs or the city that goes outside should wear at least two clearly audible bells. It's not the cat's fault for following its natural hunting instincts - and irresponsible cat owners give the poor old cats a bad name. There - that's my rant for today, no more politics. But if you want to know why I feel so strongly about cats, come and meet two recent cat victims I had. Unfortunately these pictures are of dead animals - but you can still see how beautiful they were. Please, keep your cat inside. Please.

This here is a beautiful baby Water Dragon (763). It was taken by a cat, who bit it and chewed it's tail off. The cat owner took it to the vet who did his best with a combination of surgery and anti-biotics. To no avail, the poor little lizard did not survive. For many lizards, including water dragons, cat saliva is pure poison, and even with anti-biotics, it's touch and go. For this little baby, it was the end of the journey. Hopefully the cat owner has learned from this and bought some bells for their cat.

The same applies to many Australian birds.

This juvenile Sacred Kingfisher (1165) came into my care on Sunday. Survival rates of Kingfishers in care are low unless it’s a straightforward case of concussion (flying into a window or something like that) where the bird gets two three days of rest and can go again.

Kingfishers are currently visiting Sydney on their annual migration from down south (from South Australia or even as far as Tasmania) making their way up north. It’s a long journey for these little birds, and can exhaust them, especially younger birds like this one. My little guy probably got tired and while resting got taken and bitten by a cat. This happens often, and is a disaster, as cat saliva, even one little drop, is poison to them. I’m fairly certain that’s what happened, as he was shaking as in an epileptic fit towards the end, and that’s typical poison symptoms.

Victoria Bushfires

2009-02-13T16:33:00.000-08:00

Those terrible bushfires in Victoria have resulted in many lives and properties lost. This is an absolute tragedy, and please, consider making a donation via the Red Cross.

But in amongst all this mayhem is another set of victims - the local wildlife. Many of you have seen the picture of Koala Sam being given some water from a firefighter's water bottle. This man saved Sam's life with this early re-hydration, and little Sam is now in care recovering from his burns.

If you want to help Koala Sam and his furry friends, please also make a donation to Wildlife Victoria. Here is the link:

http://www.wildlifevictoria.org.au/cms/index.php?option=com_wrapper&view=wrapper&Itemid=43

Tawny Diagnosis (483)

2009-02-03T19:35:00.000-08:00

Did you read the last post with the notes from my Blue Book about the Tawny (483)?

You know, many people have asked my why I want to be a wildlife carer. I have three kids, two of them have a disability. Why do I want to add injured, sick, and disabled animals to my workload? Well, for one thing, I love our native animals, and as a committed "Greenie" I feel all the big ideas are nice, but it's the daily little things that matter. Like helping animals that are threatened by introduced species. Like planting native plants and trees. Weeding. Doing bushcare. I call it the politics of gardening. How can you be committed to the environment and not work, literally, on your own back yard? And of course, it's fun. It's rewarding. It's always different.

And although there are bad moments, caring for the wildlife is far easier than my kids. The birds don't whine (although admittedly, those cockatoos just outside the bathroom are bloody noisy at 5 in the morning!) or need to be told to eat fruit first before lollies. The reptiles don't hit at me (unless I hold them badly, when they do take a nip) or lose their shoes. The possums don't need to be told to clean up their room (well, I do their cages) or stop playing Wii. They are so easy. You feed them, keep their cages clean, give them medicine where needed, and then hope for the best. Easy.

But sometimes there are parallels. Do you know I have another blog in which I write about my parenting experiences? It's called Rollercoaster Parenting, because, well, living with disabled kids is one hell of a rollercoaster ride. One day up, the next day down.

And wasn't my Tawny one too?

At first I thought he was fine. Then I realised he was seriously sick. I rang my insectivore coordinator, and she had some bad news - she agreed that things did not look well. Her money was on either Rat Lung Worm which causes a neurological disease in Tawny Frogmouths. Symptoms are leg paralysis, loss of balance and sometimes shaking or fitting. Birds roll forward or on their backs - sounds a bit like it eh?

The other possibility was poisoning. This generally occurs after birds have eaten insects affected by pesticides or poisons.

In both cases, the outcome is almost certainly death.

As my little fellow improved occasionally, I kept hoping against my better judgement. I do love Tawny's, they are majestic birds. But it wasn't something else, and the rollercoaster ride did eventually stop.

I find it hard to make a decision in cases like this. Take the animal to the vet to be put down, or make it as comfortable as possible and let it die in peace. If I know for sure there is no hope, it's an easy choice, off to the vet we go. If I knew for sure it was in pain there would be no doubt in my mind either what to do. But how can you tell if a bird is in pain?

Ah, the luxury of hindsight...

Tawny Notes (483)

2009-02-03T02:32:00.001-08:00

Notes from my 2009 Blue Book.

13 January

13:00 - Picked up Tawny Frogmouth (ARN 483) , sitting on low branch in tree, perching on one leg, half hanging on one side in tree. Taken home in rescue box, given lectate, kept quiet and dark.
13:45 - Perching
14:25 - Given more lectade. Perching and looking clear-eyed at me.
Evening - Given more lectade but no food yet

14 January

Morning - Looking much better. Pooed. Will try food tonight. Moved to cocky cage.
16:20 - Flat on cocky cage floor. Taken inside due to hot weather. Doesn't seem to have drunk water. Given lectade.
18:10 - Given more lectade, Now sitting up on cage floor rather than lying down.
29:25 - Lying on floor again. Given lectade.
20:15 - Sitting on cage floor, upright. Given more lectate and small mouse. Waiting for it to swallow mouse
20:45 - Spat out mouse. Gave it back Swallowed. Also given more lectade.
21:30 - Given another small mouse before I went to bed. Taken outside for fresh night air.Lying on floor again, seems "asleep" but gets up when sees me.

15 January

7:00 - Found lying on its side/back with both legs up in the air. Second mouse from last night spat out. Given lectade. Looks like dying today. Made comfortable on towel in bath.
9:00 - Sitting up! Given more lectade.
14:10 - Still sitting up but not managing perch. Given more lectade.
19:00 - Lectade plus straight water
21:00 - Lectade plus small mouse. Spat out mouse twice.
Taken outside with cover for rain.

16 January

7:30 - Sitting on perch! Alert. Right wing pulled forward and odd angle. Lots of poo. Lectade
9:10 - Lectade. Tried to manually move wing back in normal position, no luck. Alert
9:40 - Lying down on floor again. Taken inside (hot day!)
13:18 - Lying down, barely breathing. Lectade
14:00 - Transferred to dark box lined with comfy towels. to let die in peace. Given water.
18:00 - Water
20:00 - Rapid deteriorating. Given water
21:15 - Taken outside (in box) for fresh air. Left in peace. Dying.

17 January

8:30 - Amazingly, still alive and holding head up. Given water.
13:00 - Still alive. Tried to give water, refused to open mouth. Left in peace.
18:00 - Dead.

Lesson learned

2009-01-28T19:16:00.000-08:00

Ok. Doing wildlife care and blogging about it in the holidays with three kids at home is too much.... I don't even know where to begin catching up. And it's nearly time to go and fetch the kids and ... Mabye tonight....

Oh, did I mention that I'm picking up a baby water dragon this afternoon?

Mixed Start

2009-01-19T03:03:00.000-08:00

It's been a mixed start to the New Year on the wildlife front.

I have not done too well with my insectivorous birds. My lovely little Currawong (12505) that I had since before Christmas, and reared for so long, did not survive the shock of release. She was a sweetie, very happy to be with me, but not the smartest. She took a long time to "get" the idea of finding her own food. I would feed her mealworms, and she loved them. Then, when I presented them to her, she'd look at them with her beautiful dark eyes and look at me as if to say "yes, whaddaya want, feed them to me then!" She did eventually get it, but boy she took her time. I figured she wasn't the brightest button in the box so I'd better soft-release here in our garden, keep an eye on her. She was perfectly able to fly, so should be ok to get herself to safety at night, and I intended to keep up support-feeding for some more weeks unit she was happy to move off. But she did not like the idea at all. In the end, she crept under the ramp at the front entrance. I knew that was not too good, but when I tried to catch her back, she evaded me. I found her dead in the garden the next morning. Bummer.

I had the embarrassment of having to report another escapee - a cheeky Kookaburra (00260) who I thought had settled into the aviary well. As I walked out backwards it flew quite intentionally, straight at my face. Instinctively I pulled back, and out came Kookie. Off into the bush it went. Which sounds ok but as they are very territorial, he may well have been better of having some rest time in my aviary before I took him home to his own patch. There is plenty of bush out our back, but also plenty of rivals who will not tolerate an intruder. Ah, well, good luck Kookie. I do see a Kookaburra in the dead tree behind our house that I haven't seen before (a skinny guy that looks a bit like my escapee) regularly, so who knows...

And sadly, a Tawny Frogmouth i(483) n my care died after a funny few days hovering between hope and despair. I will write in more detail about this fellow later.

Oh, and I had my first "Not Found" case (277) more about which also later...

Thankfully, all the Rainbow Lorrikeets (10658; 11680 and 12228) have had a happy release in our backyard. I hope to see them again soon when our local flock comes for their regular apple-on-the-deck treat once a month or so. Not sure if I will recognise any of them (perhaps 12228 with his slightly scruffy feathers where the bandage of his broken wing was, but otherwise there is no way of telling these guys apart).

And in the aviary now are the two rosellas (12354 and 12101) both of which are delightful, and two Sulphur Crested Cockatooes (426 and 00602) whose daredevil game with a car ended, well, with a visit to the vet and some time Chez Heike.

A Busy Start

2008-12-30T01:23:00.000-08:00

Tomorrow is the last day of 2008. And my first personal record sheet is full.

This means that 27 animals have been in my care since I did my basic training course on the first of November. Well, all in all, that's not too bad!.

The majority of my animals have been birds, and most of them youngsters that have been separated from their parents - something to do with it being spring, I guess.

I've had a crested pigeon, two tawny frogmouths, two galahs, two butcher birds, two ringtail possums, two baby ringtail possums, two minor birds, three rainbow lorrikeets, three kookaburras, two blue tongue lizards, three currawongs, and three rosellas. Of my animals, two were passed on (one of them was an escaped pet who found a new home thanks to my plumber), one escaped, three were euthanised, seven were released and seven died in care. Seven are still with me.

Unless things change tomorrow, I'll go into the new year with three rainbow lorries, two rosellas a currawong and a blue tongue lizard. Two of the lorries (10657 and 11680) would be ready to be released, but as they have made friends with the little one that came last, I will wait until all three are ready. The little fellow (12228) broke his wing, and the vet wants to check him out next week and take the bandage off his wing. They also need to learn to find food naturally (they still rely too much on the nectar I provide). I will soft-release these guys, which means I will get them go in my garden and support-feed them for a while until they have joined the local flock and are happy to go off and do their own thing.

The blue tongue (11995) is not too well, she has lost many of her toes and one leg. She's had some R&R with lots of good vitamin filled food, and that's about all I can do. The only option I have is release and hope for the best, or a one way trip to the vet. She was brought in by my electrician, and he prefers to release her back into his yard where he found her, and support feed her.

The Crimson Rosella (12101) is a delightful little thing, which just needs to learn to be a rosella and not a hand-fed pet. And today she was joined by a rather jittery and scruffy looking Eastern Rosella (12354), also a hand fed baby who needs to learn to be a wild bird.

Another casualty and two juvie birds (10911; 12505; 12101)

2008-12-28T18:05:00.000-08:00

I am not happy.

That second butcher bird I had, the really young one (10911) did not like being transferred to the aviary. He was ok while being hand-reared by me. But he didn't like fending for himself. He never got used to the idea of finding his own food. Didn't even like his meal worms, spat most of them straight out. And then two mornings ago, I found him dead on the aviary floor with one wing in a funny position. It looked as if he had crashed down somehow. Very strange.

But as it goes in this job, there was not a lot of time to contemplate failure.

Late one evening I picked up a lonely Currawong (12505). No parents anywhere to be seen, so something bad must have happened there. And yesterday Janine brought along a delightful little Crimson Rosella she has hand reared from early babyhood. She is a truly gorgeous thing, and boy it would be tempting to keep her as a pet (don't worry, I won't). Janine worked hard with her, taught her to eat seeds and fly.

She has now been moved to my aviary to build up some flight strength and learn to self-feed all by herself. She needs to learn now that seeds do not come in a bowl or a person's hand but find them herself. In effect, she now needs to learn to become a rosella. The lorries seem to like her, and it's good for her to be with other birds now. Even better would be to be with other rosella's so that's the challenge for the next few weeks, to find some buddies for her.

Never a dull moment...

Casualties (11934 and 11946)

2008-12-23T18:08:00.000-08:00

The feather and beak question has resolved itself. Yes, my beautiful Crimson Rosella (11946) had the virus. The morning after I posted my previous post I found my little beauty dead in the cage. The last time I tried to have a good look at its feathers it bit me seriously. One of the sad benefits of being dead was that it could no longer bite me, and I managed a close inspection. Not a hint of tail feathers. Nothing. Nada. So I disposed of its body carefully and washed its cage super carefully.

I was pretty p!$$*@ that my little beauty died, but things were going to get worse that day.

I've had a young Kookaburra (11934) with me for a while; in fact he arrived the same day as the Rosella. He really was not well when he first came but some re hydration and TLC sorted him out. I tied unsuccessfully to find mum and dad - I have to say, so far I am having zero success with trying to re-unite - and the local kookaburra's weren't interested in him either. No one even came and looked at him when I put him out.

There had been a call from the office that there might be another young one to pair him with, and I said I'd be happy to take the other bird. But it never came - probably didn't make it either. These guys can be tricky, the young ones really don't like being on their own.

We've had a few hot days, and kookies are known not to want to eat and drink in captivity. So far the two kookies I've had have eaten well (defrosted rats and mice in varying sizes, with added vitamins and sometimes chopped up. Yum!). But drinking is another matter altogether. Our bird manual warns us that kookies have not been observed drinking, and I can support that. Knowing this I would dip my mice in water before feeding them to the birds, and that seemed to do the trick. But with the hot weather, kookie needed more water.

So that same morning, after I disposed of my rosella, we fed and watered kookie. This little fellow was doing so well that Boo Boo was happy to feed him - she has learned to use the little plastic tweezers and does a good job with them. And kookie was happily taking his two mice from her. Then I fed him some water and lectade and what was a morose and sullen bird in the morning perked up remarkably. I fed him more water and lectade twice more that day. He chirped up considerably. All was going well.

That evening, there was some commotion in the bathroom where I had parked kookie (a bit cooler than outside). I went and had a look, only to find him lying on his side in the cage, looking at me forlornly. I tried a bit more food, which he didn't want, and some more water and lectade which he took. I held him on my lap in a soft towel with his head, which kept falling down, up. I was watching the cricket on TV, dropping some water into his beak every 15 minutes or so. To no avail. I watched him slipping away and he died peacefully just after the cricket finished.

South Africa won the game that day. Maybe that was too much for my kookie's Aussie pride. Him and the rosella came in on the 13th. Maybe just some bad luck there. They both came from the not-so-good vet. Maybe they could have done with some more veterinary care. Who knows?

A not so nice run recently. Guess that was meant to be after some successful releases. You know, just to remind me that it's not all plain sailing...

Feather and Beak disease? (11946)

2008-12-17T01:08:00.000-08:00

As you have noticed, I normally edit the photo's I post of the animals. Why? No particular reason other than that I like it, and it gives the blog a certain individual "look".

But today I'd like to post two un-edited pictures of my Crimson Rosella (ARN 11946). It came to me from a vet, who wasn't too sure about the bird. You see, a lot of these fellows catch "bird and feather" disease, a nasty virus which basically means a one-way trip to the vet. It is generally diagnosed by growths on beaks and feathers missing and in bad condition.

Now this little fellow was found in a pool after a cat attack. The vet treated it for the injury but wasn't sure if this one had feather and beak. Nor do I.

The bird's feathers look in good condition, the only noticeable fact being that it has no long tail feathers. That could be a result from it being a juvenile and having been attacked by a cat.

But most worryingly, its beak looks, well, funny. It looks like the bottom half has a crack, and the top half has some growth on it.

So. What do you think?

And some releases (11004; 11656; 11866)

2008-12-16T01:26:00.000-08:00

After a series of escapees, a series of releases. That's better eh?

First I got a call about a Kookaburra (11674) stuck behind a rainwater tank. And sure, stuck he was. It's like that children's song. Couldn't go over it, couldn't go under it. But there are things you can do with a towel and a bendy arm, and it didn't take me too long to get Kookie out. I gave him a quick once-over, and he was fine. These guys damage their tail feathers easily, but the tank's surface was smooth, so despite a whole lot of flapping around, all feathers were intact. After a few minutes of sitting dazed in the grass, he flew off, first onto a low garden wall, then higher into a tree. I'm sure he sat there for a while longer composing himself, but as we never heard back from the family, all must have gone ok.

On Sunday, we went to do our bushcare at Minnamurra (our old street), which happened to be around the corner from where my Kookaburra (11004) was found. He too was ready to go. His tail feathers have not yet all grown back, but enough for him to fly. On Friday I went in to the aviary to feed the collected birds, and as soon as I opened my box of mice, he swooped on me, sat on my arm and took the mice from the box. Yeah, that one is ready all right!

Then on Monday I took the Tawny (11866) to Owen the man who had rescued him. He was prepared to take the bird back to the site where he found him - it's quite a way from where I live, but it's where Owen works. He was happy for me to drop the bird off on Sunday night and released him on Monday after his day's work. Owen's environmental officer was present for the release, and they took some pictures. I do hope Owen gets some brownie points from his environmental manager for his willingness to rescue and release the bird.

On Tuesday, Possum happened to have a play date in Allambie, which is not too far from Mona Vale where Bluey was found (11656). The finding site was listed as "Swane Reserve" and all my inquiries as to where this is drew a blank. My GPS knew of no such place. It wasn't on the map. And I asked all my friends living in that area, and no-one had ever heard of it. So I decided to go to a nice quiet area on Manly Dam on the Manly Vale side, far away from houses and cats, and let Bluey go there.

More Escapes (11656 and 11866)

2008-12-10T00:26:00.000-08:00

I've had some more escapees.

First it was Bluey (11656).

The first day I had her in a small aquarium box, where she seemed happy enough. After I took the tick out, I settled her into a bigger box, with some bark for hiding, a plastic pipe for hiding under and a proper heat lamp. She spend a fine night there. The next day, we had a lovely day on the beach. And when we came home, Bluey was gone. I was flabbergasted, and pretty p!$$@d off with myself for letting another one of my animals escape. I had a quick look around the laundry and garage (one lesson I learned from last time is the garage door gets closed religiously) but couldn't find her. That evening after the kids were in bed I had another good look with my torch and found her. She had crawled behind the hot water heater - nice and dark, a good hiding spot, and warm to boot. If I was a lizard, I would have gone there. I caught her and put her back in the box with a better lid on it.

Today, Possum went for a play at a friend's house, Boo Boo was at home with Lieve and Jess, and I took Beaver to his second appointment with the anxiety psychologist. All went well, until I got a call from Lieve that Bluey was behind the water tank again, and should she just catch her with a towel and pop her back in the box. Yes please!

When we came home, Bluey was in the box, with an elaborate collection of laundry baskets and baby chairs on top - she had tried to get out again! So I decided to put her back into the smaller fish tank. All settled again, up we went for afternoon tea. And half an hour later, she was gone again. This time she avoided the water tank and I found her in the garage behind the bins.

Enough is enough.

I got a small cat cage, put some spare gutter guard around it, and put her in there. And it took her all of 10 minutes to try and get out again, he started climbing up trying to find a spot she could squeeze through (but she can't, ha!). I've kept her upstairs in the house where I can keep an easier eye on her, and thrown a towel over the cage at night for good measure. I figure this lady is ready for release! It's raining at the moment, but the first sunny day, she's off, back to where she was found.

And then there is the Tawny Frogmouth (11866).

As it had been raining this afternoon, Tawny's cage got a bit wet, so I brought it inside to change the newspaper in the bottom (he might not have wanted the food I gave him yesterday, but he sure had enough in his tummy for some spectacular poos). And guess what? Yep, he too...

I cleaned the newspaper, put fresh water in the cage and managed to get him to take a mouse. He hissed and bit at me, but in the end I managed to get the mouse in his mouth, pushed it in a bit, and eventually he swallowed. Phew. And then he promptly did another one of those sticky stinky poos. So I decided to quirky change the newspaper again. And he decided to fly off. As he was a bit dryer by then, he flew quite nicely to onto the railing. A fine horizontal flight - but I'll want to see a higher one first before I let him go - and a smooth landing. I could not resist the urge to photograph him sitting there before I quickly caught him again.

And Mr. Wobblehead had fun in our living room.

Escaped Pet (9958)

2008-12-08T01:38:00.000-08:00

Remember my silly galah with the wobbly head (animal record number 6658)?

He's still with me.

In fact, he's sitting on my right shoulder grinding his beak as I type this.

You see, Mister Wobblehead, as we have named him, is not an injured wild animal. He's an escaped pet Galah. He took a chance at freedom, and not knowing about cars etc. got himself knocked down by a car. Or flew into a window. Or got into some other kind of trouble. Yeah, freedom is a tricky thing.

Possum, looking like a fearsome pirate, with Mr. Wobblehead.

He still wobbles his head. I think the poor think has sustained some neurological damage. Or maybe he's always been like this and is a neurotic pet who was kept in too small a cage.

I am now scouring the vet notices and pet search to try and find his owner. Not easy. The boy has no real distinguishing marks. And he may well have once said "Go the Sydney Swans" or "Hello gorgeous" or whatever silly things people teach their pet birds to say, bu he's not saying it after his accident.

For now he stays with us. He sleeps in the aviary with the kookaburra (11004) and the rainbow lorrie (10657), both of which are doing well and whose feathers are growing slowly but surely, and comes into the house for a play in the day. He particularly seems to like nibbling shoes, and is very good at cleaning up the crumbs from under the table. Maybe I should keep him there as a fully automatic vacuum cleaner...

Bluey (11656)

2008-12-08T01:19:00.000-08:00

On the weekend my feeding tweezers snapped. I had only one set, so drastic action had to be taken immediately. The boys were playing a computer game with Dad, Boo Boo was packed off for her midday sleep, and I headed to the office to buy some supplies.

It's always fun going there. There are always knowledgeable people there, quite often carrying some animals. One of the women there had a baby Brushtail Possum, another had a baby Cuckoo (fan tailed if I remember it well) and a young Boobook Owl. Not everyday you get to see those!

A call came in to pick up a Blue Tongue Lizard (animal record number 11656) from a vet a few suburbs away. Possum loves all types of lizards, and it's his birthday today, so despite being slightly outside my area, I immediately volunteered to go and pick him up. It's a gorgeous specimen (I think a female, but couldn't be sure) with some trouble with her right hind leg. And extra special birthday present for the boy. Bluey seemed to drag her leg and, according to the vet, didn't move much. The weekend was very hot, so maybe she's a bit dehydrated. I kept her in a small fish tank on a heat pad for the night.

Today, on his actual birthday, we went to the shops for morning tea, to buy a cake, and to buy a heat light and some other reptile-keeping paraphernalia to get Bluey comfortable. She's now in a big old tub with a lamp on a timer, somewhere to hide, and some fresh food and water.

As I moved her to her new digs, I noticed the troubled leg had a big tick between her toes. Gross. It was quite hard to pull out too. I wonder if that had something to do with the sore leg and or the slight lethargic state.

I'm fairly certain she had some food (she was sitting over the bowl with strawberries but unless they were all under her tummy she's eaten some) and water - and even a bath. She spend some time with her tummy in the water bowl, looking at me trying to work out what sort of strange wildlife I am... Some of her skin has shed, and she's done two massive (and stinky!) poos. Seems all very fine to me. At times she stands on the leg now, so I wonder if the tick was the problem. It's getting a bit late today, so I'll ring my reptile coordinator in the morning to register Bluey and pick his brain about what the problem might be. I'll keep you posted.

Two Wongs and another Galah (1107; 11057;11071)

2008-12-02T18:02:00.000-08:00

Another week of ups and downs.

First came a call about a Currawong (11007) fledgeling separated from its parents. Over I went, and it turned out that the little bird was stuck on a concrete terrace of a house. Mum and Dad were around and feeding their baby, trying to get him to fly. The owner of the house was a bit worried about the birdie on the hard concrete, and it was at the possible mercy of a cat attack, so better to move it. After a few attempts which involved borrowing a stepladder from the house owners, baby Wong was safely deposited on a level piece of branch in a nearby tree. He sat a bit wobbly, his perching balance wasn't' too crash hot yet, so I gave the people my phone number in case little Wong fell off the branch and needed rescuing again. But all went OK. They did call me some days later about another feathered friend in the same sort of situation, but having seen me deposit baby bird in a tree, the lady of the house had a go herself at putting this bird in a safe spot. I haven't heard from them again, so I think all went well. Everyone happy! It's lovely when a job is that easy and satisfying for all parties involved.

Along came another Currawong who was not so fortunate (11057). A nearby vet rang to come and collect a Currawong, so off I went. They popped the wong in my rescue basket and a curious set of eyes looked back at me when I placed the basket in the car. But when I came home I noticed the strange way the bird was holding its legs. I placed the bird on the table - and he fell flat on his tummy and face. Both legs were totally paralyzed. How on earth could this vet just call me to collect the bird!?! This fellow was in serious trouble.

So I took him to my local vet, who has an excellent reputation when it comes to wildlife. They feared the bird had neurological damage and offered to put it out of its misery. I decided to wait two days, at Currawongs in particular can get paralysed legs from Calcium and Vitamin D deficiency, and I figured nothing lost in trying. I rehydrated the bird and pumped him full of vitamins. They were mixed in some water and lectade, and I gently opened his beak and dropped the water in every half an hour or so. I also kept him warm and dark in case of concussion, and washed his bottom regularly with warm water (with no ability to stand, wong got covered in poo rather quickly). The next day he also took some food.

But to no avail. There was no improvement in his condition. I knew that if there were no significant changes I would have to take him to the vet the next day. In the morning of "decision day"he did not respond when I came in to water and feed him. He was breathing, but I had a sense he was dying. I resolved to leave him in piece and took the boys to school. An hour and a half later I went back to him, and he had died.

The next day I collected a concussed Galah (11071) . He was a joy to look after. Noisy, cheeky, full of attitude. And all he really needed was two days of R&R, before he happily flew off into a big gum tree on the site where I collected him. He instantly called out for his friends, and flew off to resume his life, wondering what on earth happened the last few days.

Escaped (11003)

2008-11-28T18:17:00.000-08:00

I can't tell you how embarrassed I am. One of my birds has escaped, and is nowhere to be found.

I had this little Noisy Minor with an injured wing. The vet didn't have much hope for him when I picked him up. This is what the vet's record sheet says:

"possible cat attack. Mid shaft wing haematoma. Cannot feel fracture but unable to fly and off-balance when talking. Treatment? Clav inj. 0101 ml IM in case bite wound involved. Plan: Will need rehab with carer for 2 wks, but if not improving by then, euthanasia recommended"

Now, Noisy Miners have a bit of a habit of suddenly dropping dead, especially if left on their own. I had notified my coordinator and asked if she knew someone to buddy him with but had not heard back from her. So I put him in a cocky cage next to my galah (9958) who's a quiet and friendly chappie for some feathered company at least. I Got him on the 23rd, and he was doing well, had moved out from the "hospital box" to a cocky cage and was eating and drinking as far as I could tell. So on Friday morning (the 28th) I came down with his food (I prepare it together with the school lunchboxes I pack for the kids) and fresh water.

Except, there was no bird in the cage.

I have no idea how that bird managed to get out of that cage. The wire just about fits my thumb through. But somehow, he did it.

And to make matters worse, he was in the laundry (which I have tidied up and turned into the animal room). There is no door between our laundry and our garage. And for some unknown reason, the garage door was left open all night.

Bummer.

Not only did the bird do a runner, just on that day the garage was open. Mind you, that's probably why he did a runner, seeing freedom in the early morning daylight. Or maybe a cat came in and snatched him. If the garage door had been closed, I would have found my little runaway. But no chance.

I ran around the garden, and the street, and the neighbor's yards, looking for him. In vain.

He's gone.

And with an injured wing, that means he's gone.

And I learned a lesson. The hard way. I feel pretty bad about this.

Bye Bye Butcher Bird (10447)

2008-11-26T22:39:00.000-08:00

As I feared, the vet had to euthanise my little butcher bird (10447). His general body condition was bad, and he had no muscle strength in his legs. Very mysterious. The vet blames a virus.

But then, where did he get it? The bird has been with me for two weeks now.

I don't know. I'm trying to work this one out.

Did I feed him too much? Too little? The wrong things? He's had chicken and roo mince, all with added insectivore and some mixed eggshell, and chopped mice, meal worms and crickets. I have washed all the cages virgorously today, and put some of them in the sun for some hours. I hope my other butcher bird (10911) doesn't get it, or any of my other birds in care, or even, heaven forbid, our pet Cockatiel Charlie.

Don't count your Chickens... (10447; 10911)

2008-11-26T17:23:00.000-08:00

Or should I say, don't count your butcher birds before they have hatched.

You know that post I wrote just days ago about the happy butcher birds? I spoke too soon.

Baby (10911) is still going well and seems to be growing. I will weigh him later today just to make sure. But my older one (10447) is not going well. Not at all.

Two days ago he was thriving. He was catching all the meal worms I hid for him, and got most of the crickets - he was a bit slow with them at times, but I actually think he didn't really like them that much. I let him loose in the bathroom most of the day, were he flew around, chucked lotions and potions on the basin on the floor and fed well. I was going to ring my coordinator to validate my opinion that he was ready to go.

Then I noticed yesterday he seemed a bit listless, and I thought I'd better keep an eye on him.

Today, he's positively sick. He can't stand on his legs at all. He pulls up his right leg and draws the toes in a little ball. He spends his time either lying on his side, or desperately trying to fly away, which he's not manging. I have been giving him vitamins in his water and extra calcium. I put him in a box in the sun to get some extra vitamin D. He still feeds well (loves his chopped up mice - don't ask!). But his breathing has changed and he's clearly struggling. I rang the carnivorous bird coordinator. She's a wealth of information, but equally stumped on this one...

This afternoon, when Boo Boo wakes up, I will take my litte fellow to the vet.

I have a bad feeling about this...

Well fed butchers (10447; 10911)

2008-11-24T01:27:00.001-08:00

See? He's got the meal worm all right. My first bucher bird (10447) is going well, he has no trouble now catching some worms. We've moved on to crickets now - they are a bit faster. He's managing, but I have to say, he doesn't seem that interested in them. He definately prefers the worms. Sometimes I hide them, and he still manages to find them. Today he spend most of the day hanging on the cage flapping his wings and loudly complaining when he sees me. He does fly up to the top of the cupboard in the bathroom. I think this fellow is ready to go. I'll just try and hold out till Thursday when the aviary comes, just to check his flying ability.

And here is my second butcher bird (10911). He's now perching on a stick rather than hanging with splayed legs in a newspaper nest. He's eating like a horse, and seems to be gaining weight and feathers. This guy is doing well.

Pinkie Ringtails (10646; 10658; 11003; 11004)

2008-11-24T01:04:00.000-08:00

On Sunday, I was sent out to collect a baby ringtail possum. The mother had been electrocuted (yes, playing on the power lines can be dangerous) and there was a baby still in the pouch. The family that had found the dead mother had to go out that afternoon, so they left her - baby in pouch - on a hot water bottle and wrapped in a towel by the front door.

I picked up a piece of newspaper from their recycling bin and walked over to the package in the towel. Mum must have been dead for a while, she was pretty cold and stiff (except for the bottom bit, which was kept warm by the hot water bottle). Sure enough, there was life in the pouch. I gently pulled out the little baby and put it in my rescue basket. And then another one! Yep, there were two in there. Ringtails tend to have more than one baby, and as they are social animals (and their successful rearing in captivity depends on being able to be buddied with other ring tails) this is in itself good news. Two have more chance of survival than one. But they looked awfully small and furless to me.

I registered them (10646 and 10658) with my Possum Coordinator, and left her the details of the little fellows' weight. It wasn't long until I got a phone call back. Not good news. They cut-of weight for a ringtail possum in 45 grams. At 34 and 36 grams, these two stood no chance. Despite being so full of life, their immune system is not fully developed at this stage. They can be kept alive for a while, but they will inevitably die. I gave them some rehydration fluid, kept them together in a cosy fleece pouch on the head pad so their last night would be as comfortable as possible.

The children were very sad to hear this. Possum insisted on holding them and saying some prayers for them. Beaver, at the ripe old age of 8, made the very insightful comment that "they didn't have much of a life" and hoped very much that they would have more luck in their next life. He too said a prayer for them.

This morning, the boys said good bye before they went to school. Boo Boo and I went to the vet for some "Green Dream". The stuff they give the animals is bright green, hence the name. It consists of pain killers and anaesthetics, and it works very fast. The lady at reception got very teary eyed when she saw what I had brought in. "Oh, I hate this" she said. Can't say I enjoyed it much either. I decided I needed a coffee in the sun, so Boo Boo and I went off to a small local shopping area and sat outside for a while, chatting to each other and an old friend from our preschool days who was there too.

Oh, and in good old style, I did not leave the vet empty handed. A Noisy Miner (11003) and a Kookaburra (11004) had been handed in that morning? Could I? Sure thing.

So at the moment, I have one Galah, one Rainbow Lorrikeet, one Noisy Miner and two Butcher Birds in the house, distributed over the laundy and bathroom. I've always said that it's a right old zoo here in our house...

Busy few Days (10548; 10561; 10657)

2008-11-23T13:07:00.000-08:00

In the night we had a thunderstorm, with some very noisy thunderclaps and impressive winds. It was in the middle of the night, but it woke me up. I was waiting for the voices of the frightened kids, but none came. All three slept straight through it all.

I got a call in the morning. Could I go and pick up a Noisy Miner (10548) at the vet? Sure thing. It was a sweet little fledgling, probably blew out of the nest in the storm. I got it comfy, warm and dark and left it for a while. Decided not to feed it yet in case it was concussed.

Soon after the phone rang again. The vet had an adult Ringtail Possum. (10561) It was found at one of the local schools, and seemed fine. You see, what happens is that the kids toss their unwanted and leftover fruit in a bin. In the night, the possums smell a free feast and climb into the bin to gorge themselves on the fruit. And then, when morning comes, they find that they can't get out. So they cuddle up at the bottom of the bin and go to sleep. That is, until the kids start screaming when they find the sleeping intruder in the bin. The school caretaker just packs them up in a box and takes them to the vet. Who gives the animal the once over and rings the office. Which then rings me. And off I go.

While waiting for the vet to come out with the possum, the lady at reception told me that someone had just handed in a baby Butcher Bird. They hadn't rang the office yet. Would I take it? Sure, i took the bird and told the vet I would register it. They were having a busy day (lots of people getting their pet cats and dogs ready for the summer holidays) and were grateful for it.

Our possum was indeed absolutely fine. I took it for a run-around in the bathroom. All it wanted to do was go back to sleep. It walked around for about a minute or so, all was in working order, so then I placed two upturned flowerpots with some coconut fibre on the floor. Possum made a bee line for it and cuddled up. And stayed there the rest of the day (well, apart from the two minutes when I took it out to show the curious kids).

Baby butcher bird was hungry but fairly happy, smaller than the other butcher bird I have. I went straight to where it was found to see if I could find the parents. No luck. I went back twice the next day. But no. Not a butcher bird around...

That evening, Hubby and I went out for dinner. We had a lovely time - with some serious discussions about what the future holds, mainly work-wise - and instead of a nice coffee or tea after, we drove to the school to release our possum. Gave it another quick once-over in the back of the car, and decided that, yes, it was absolutely fine.

I held it on the trunk of a nice big gum tree. It sat in my hand, nibbling at some yummy piece of long grass. Then decided that it wasn't too flash and moved on up. We watched it for a little while as it climbed up and ate the young new gum leaves on the twigs, until it had moved too far up for us to watch it comfortably. Absolutely fine indeed.

At home, the kids were sleeping in various places (one still in bed, one in our bed and one on the sofa) and the noisy miner wasn't' looking too chirpy. I tried some food and water, but it wasn't too interested. And I wasn't too optimistic. Indeed, in the morning, it was no more. Baby butcher bird was doing fine, loudly asking for a midnight snack.

And on the weekend our zoo was enhanced with a very noise juvenile Rainbow Lorrikeet (10657).

Nothing wrong with this young chappie either as far as I can tell. Just can't quite fly yet. I think one or two days of safety is all it needs before it can join a flock of lorries and, as my kids say, live "happily ever after"...

Worms on the Floor (10447)

2008-11-19T00:44:00.000-08:00

Euw. We have meal worms crawling on the floor.

You see, our little butcher bird (10447) is learning how to self-feed. Yeah, I remember this was a very messy stage with the children. But this is another category altogether with a carnivorous bird.

I've been feeding him small pieces of lean organic chicken mixed with some filtered water and mashed ground up insects. Yum! And the smell!

Now I have a scrumptious meal worms from the pet shop. They are alive and kept in the fridge to slow them down. I've been baby-feeding the bird these worms, and they have piqued his interest. I got a branch sticking off his cage and with him on it, popped the worms on a fork in the branch. I could see him looking, but no more than that. And then suddenly today, for the first time, he took some food from me tweezers before I stuck it in the back of his beak. And then he picked up the meal worm that I had on the table for him. He hopped onto the living room floor and started hopping and flying around (generally towards the window). He's actually managing to get up now, and get a bit of speed. When he settled down again in a corner of the living room I put 5 meal worms out for him - and he ate them all! And then some more!

Ah, he's growing up.

Tomorrow I will leave the worms out of the fridge a bit before I feed them to him. That makes them faster, and trickier for him. Then next challenge is crickets (again in the fridge to slow them down) and then I will have to hide them under some leaf litter.

Gosh, I hope my aviary will have arrived by then...

Baby Butcher Bird (10447)

2008-11-16T01:35:00.000-08:00

Next up on my rescue list is a Grey Butcher Bird. (10447)

These little fellows are not too popular. They have a bit of a habit of swooping down on people. They are cheeky birds, and not a bit frightened. They are also excellent parents, and tend to both look after their young. So it's very surprising that a bird-loving family with a big Labrador who is used to birds found their dog barking over a young butcher bird, no parents in sight. The family make a cardboard box with a perch and left the baby out in the garden for a while, but no parents showed up. So they took the little guy to the vet.

Yes, I'm starting to get familiar with my local vet. Thankfully, they have an excellent reputation with regards to wildlife. You see, vets are supposed to look after native wildlife for free. When an animal needs extensive medication (a course of anti-biotic for example) they should charge no more than the costs of the medicine. But not all vets can be bothered. Some ring us and just want us to come and pick up the animal to be rid of it. Others, like my local vet, go the extra mile. They give the animal the once over, and administer first aid medication. They are happy when an animal is collected and ask after previous ones. When I came for the galah, they wanted to know how the Tawny was going. I passed it on to my carnivorous bird coordinator by the way. She has a large aviary and some other Tawnys. He's doing well, although not flying up yet, so not quite ready to be released. Hopefully that will happen later this week.

Anyway, I checked out the little butcher bird and kept him dark and quiet. The next morning he was doing well, so I took him to the house where he was found. I introduced myself to the family living there; explained that I was not staking out their house for a burglary but hoping to reunite the little fellow with is family - butcher birds will come and claim their babies even after some days. But no one turned up. Not a single butcher bird. Since my little friend was found in the backyard, I walked to the street on the other side of the property. No results.

So I've make the little guy comfortable in a cocky cage (the one vacated by the Tawny, and thoroughly cleaned just in case). He drank some water and ate some chicken with insectivore mix during the day. Tomorrow I will go back to the rescue site (sick children permitting!) and have another try. If that doesn't work I'll have to pass him on - the cocky cage is just too small for him to stay in too long.

So far, I'm finding this fun. I've had five calls - four of which I could take on - and five different animals. At this rate, I will be learning lots and faster than I thought. I now have some more cages. We're about to have some work done in the laundry, and after that I will set up a space for the animals there. And Friday week my aviary is coming! Yes. I have ordered an aviary, to be put on the spot where the old chicken shed used to be.

The kids are finding it interesting too. They come home from school and ask "Any animals today mama?" When the crested pigeon died we had some sad faces, and yet another talk about life and death. I guess they'll learn all about that. They are facinated with all the different animals, and full of questions about their food, nesting habits, behaviour etc., especially Possum. Beaver would like to take them all into his bedroom - and I've had to explain numeours times about the difference between pets and wild animals. All very educational, eh? Little Boo Boo thinks they are all cute and would love to pat them all! Still, conisidering I am allergic to all furry animals, this is a great way for the kids to grow up around animals, learn about them, and learn not to be frightened of them. I pick them up with my hands most of the time (so far I haven't had an animal I felt I needed a towel with) and the kid see that most animals are not scary. Possum helped my feed the butcher bird today, and while he was a bit frightened by the bird's fast reaction, he stuck it out. For him, so scared of even the smalles animal, this is a wonderful thing. He wants to know how old he has to be before he can go and do the Sydney Wildlife course. Who knows... I'd be happy if he just got over his fear. Nice bonus...

Silly Galah (9958)

2008-11-16T01:06:00.000-08:00

The next day, the phone rang again. Could I go and pick up a Galah (ARN 9958) from my local vet? He was found in someones back yard acting strangely, probably flew against a window.

Well, the poor thing was certainly acting strangely. The bird looked in perfect condition except for a bit of a glazed look in his eyes and a strangely wobbly head. Think a parrot with constant head twitching Tourette's. This is definitely not quite right.

I kept him nice and dark in my rescue basked and headed off for Hubby's high school reunion picnic. At the picnic, I got another call to pick up a Ringtail Possum stuck under someones table. I would have loved to, but I had to decline. I had not a single cage, basket or even box left. We had tossed out some perfectly good cardboard boxes just days before I did the wildlife rescue course, and I now regret it. So with a sad heart I said no, and wowed that I would get some more cages pronto.

On Monday I bought a cocky cage and one of those plastic traveling cages for cats or dogs. Also, our neighbor was tossing out a whole lot of stuff in the big rubbish, and I rescued two big plastic tubs. I will give them a good clean and construct a mesh roof for them, they will serve me fine for a while.

So I got my friend the galah settled in the new cage. I cut some grass (soil and all) and placed it on a wet plate in the bottom of the cage, with some seeds in it. I put some twigs in a corner, and some nice perches. By the end of the evening, the bird was happily perched and asleep in the new cage in the bathroom.

Where he remains, a week later. I take him out ever day to be in the fresh air. He eats, drinks, poops and chirps in conversation with the local galahs that hang around our house,. But the head wobble goes on.

Now, my clever bird rescue book tells me that concussion can take a week or even two to settle. So I remain optimistic. I keep him dark with a dark towel over three sides of the cage (inside at night, outside during the day or when not raining). He seems happy. I guess I will persevere for another week. If there is no improvement then, I will have to have a serious chat with my granivorous bird coordinator. I don't know if the little fellow can fly, and I don't know if he's OK. Maybe he has some permanent neurological damage. And if that is serious, it's off to birdie heaven for my little galah...

Fingers crossed.

Bleeding Tawny (10071)

2008-11-11T01:25:00.000-08:00

On Saturday I was standing in the chemist buying reflux medication for our youngest, Boo Boo, when my second call came. Could I go and pick up an injured adult Tawny Frogmouth (Animal Record Number 10071) from my local vet. Could I? Of course I could. A Tawny! Sure thing. I wasn't going to say no to a gorgeous creature like that!

Tawny Frogmouths are a majestic bird. They look a bit like an owl but they are not. We've had them visit us in our garden a few tmes, and they are beauties.

The bird was found at a nearby train station with a bleeding mouth and chest, breathing heavily. A kind man took the Tawny to the vet, who checked it for broken bones and wings (none), gave it some medication other, and rang Sydney Wildlife. Who rang me.

I kept him in my rescue basket overnight, just kept him contained and dark. The next day I prepared a small cocky cage with a low perch for him. As I took him out of the rescue basket he tried to fly away, a good sign. He flew low, though, which is a bit strange (they tend to fly up to a high point, but then again, we don't really have a high point in our living room). I had combined some chicken, insectivore bird mix and shell grit, and he ate small pieces of it happily. He tried to bite me when I put my hand in the cage - their mouth is huge, but relatively harmless and the bite does not hurt. You can easily stick your fingers in their beak, and all you feel is a serious nip - and looked at me with big threatening eyes and open beak. All good signs.

I dropped some chicken pieces in his mouth (they don't self-feed in captivity, and you have to pop some food in their open mouth). He swallowed and looked at me sideways with what seemed some surprise in his eyes.

During the day, he sat on his perch being a Tawny. During the early evening he came to life, but after I fed him (some more chicken mix, and the next day I'd gone to the pet shop to buy some yummie frozen mice for him) he settled down and spend his nights quietly thinking about whatever it is birds think about. I put him in a secluded area outside during the day but took him inside (in our bathroom) for the night just to keep him from getting to cold, just in case.

And today I took him to my carnivorous bird coordinator who has a large aviary (and some other Tawny's for company) to see how he goes there. All going well, he'll be released later this week.

Well, this is more like it.

This morning there was a large feather in the bottom of his cage. I have kept it, as a memento of my first successful wildlife rescue.

Basic Training (10010)

2008-11-09T16:06:00.001-08:00

This journey started last weekend (the first weekend in November, 2008) when I attended the Basic Training with Sydney Metropolitan Wildlife Rescue. It was a brilliant weekend, full of information and with some hands-on practice handling animals. I went home eager for my first call. It came two days later.

A baby Crested Pigeon (Animal Record Number 10010) was handed in to a local vet. I got the call just minutes after nine o'clock in the evening, and unfortunately the vet closed at nine. I set up my kit - rescue basked with towels and little heat pads, put the whole lot on a heat pad in an old T-shirt, and put some baby bird mix aside, a bowl for water, my paperwork and read my manual on Crested Pigeons.

Ready to go!

To the rescue!

The next morning I took the boys to school and rang the vet. The little bird had not made it through the night! Well, that first call-out was a bit of an anti-climax hey?

The next day I got another call from the office. The vet had rung and asked why no-one had come to pick up the pigeon. Well!

So off I went. The story was that two birds had been handed in, one died through the night, one survived. They seemed glad to be rid of it. And I was equally glad to have it.

The baby turned out a pre-fledgeling rather than a baby - meaning, it has some feathers. It was a real cutie. I made it a nice nest in my rescue basket. Tried to feed it, but it wasn't interested. It did drink some water, so I was getting optimistic. Survived two nights at the vets, drinking, looking chirpy - all good signs.

I left it a very shallow bowl with water and some baby bird food in the cup of a lip gloss stick over night. When I checked in the morning, it didn't look as if any of it had been touched. I decided to take the kids to school and try to hand-feed it when I came back.

Unfortunately, my little cutie was lying dead near the food cup. Was it a coincidence? Did it just keel over and land next to it? Or did the poor little mite try to get some food, and died from the exhaustion of trying to do that? Was it something I had done wrong? Should I have tried to feed it earlier? Or should I have waited a bit longer altogether? The right eye was bloodshot, a possible indication of some internal injury maybe. I will never know what happened...

I didn't feel to pleased with my first attempt at rescuing a wild animal, I can tell you that.

But when you do the course, they do hammer it in to you that death is a big part of this job, and if you can't get used to the idea, then this is not for you. So. I guess I'll have to live and learn.

Hence this blog.

I figure that I can write about my experiences. Maybe other new carers will find it interesting. If not, it may prove a useful record for me to learn from. Time will tell.