As the days are getting warmer, the mozzies come to snack, there is some little chirping, coming from the back. You see, our birds have babies, or in the least they have eggs, something that I never thought, I’d ever get to see…
Sorry, but I thought I would go with the spirit of the season. Indeed, our finches are in the process of raising their 3rd brood (in as many months), with 5 little heads stretching up to be fed this time. Talk about more than doubling their breeding efforts! (more…)
We have new neighbours, which is fine, except for one thing – they have a cat that they don’t keep in at night.
This cat is friendly enough, a bit skittish, but happy to come and say hello to us, and tease the girls out the front window. Alas, the cat is also very friendly with our birds, which is going to be huge problem.
Currently, our birds are in cages on a table outside, as they wouldn’t be safe from the girls inside. They have been out there since we moved here several months ago, safe and sound from the girls, and with no prowling cats until now.
This cat is beautiful, I’ll admit that being a cat person. It is one of the tailless varieties, most likely a manx, which I love. It does seem to be well fed and well looked after, though lacks a collar, which all cats in Queensland must have. I doubt it is micro-chipped either, which is a shame. (more…)
Well, it seems that even if I’m not the one expanding the family, our family is destined to grow, and grow, and grow. No, there are no more human additions, but more of the feathered variety.
After my last post here, it was decided that our hurt/lost finch was going to be a part of our family. Closer inspections of our tiny charge showed that he appeared to be too well fed for a wild bird and that the amputated foot happened some time ago. Knowing how WIRES and vets work, the decision was made to not contact them (the recommendation would be to put the bird down) and to house the finch ourselves.
A night spent in our improvised intensive care unit, and we had one active finch on 0ur hands. That plastic box (no lid- just a flimsy cardboard cover) was not going to serve as a home for much longer and a proper home was going to have to be found, fast.
Les took a wonder out to our storage unit, retrieved our bird cages and then helped to clean and set them up. The tiny finch had a new home, but then I decided to let him have my budgie cage, as it is sooo much bigger than the ‘finch house’ cage. Yep, he likes my budgie cage and loves the room he has to fly around and spread seed from here to eternity (or so it seems).
With a nice home, our finch was named. Les called him Vince, as in Invinceable, which seems to have the ‘meep’ of approval. One happy bird named, and plans to get him some friends.
A trip to the pet shop was inevitable, as it always is. I was instructed to get some flock mates for Vince, and so I did (along with about 10 more fish!!!). I got a grey female zebra finch and a white male and female pair of zebra finches. It took about 3 days for them to all settle down, but they are as happy as can be now, especially with my greenery that has been grown for them from their own wasted seeds.
Yes, we have 4 finches now. They are Vince and Violet Grey and Millie and Meep White. 4 happy little featheries who are very loud, despite their size, and are providing a new dynamic to our household.
The plan now is to get a pair of Gouldian finches, which shouldn’t be too hard. The pet shop already has them waiting for my return. Might go tomorrow actually, providing I get some sleep tonight.
So, from frightened and lonely bird, Vince has become the King of his Purple Heart Palace and has a girlfriend whom he treats like a queen. I am so glad he survived, and so is Les who has waited 53 years to own finches.
Off to cover them up now, they are pretty loud ‘meepers’ and with it getting rather late (or early depending on your perspective), they seem louder and are threatening to wake up the girls.
The other day, while sitting out the front conversing with my husband, a tragedy befelled my wildlife family.
There Les and I were, sitting quietly and enjoying the peaceful moments of a cigarette break (allow me one vice), when I suddenly realised something was wrong. Behind me, there was a lot of squawking going on, which isn’t unusual for our magpies. I thought nothing of it at first.
As I continued to sit there, out of the corner of my eyes, I could see our regular group of magpies dancing around, and really crying out. They were trying to get my attention by bobbing around, flapping their wings and squawking as loudly as they could.
I turned my head in the direction they were wanting me to look, and that’s when I saw it. The youngest magpie had been caught by the neighbours cat, a truely horrible sight for an animal lover to see.
I yelled ‘NO!’ at the top of my voice, dropped cigarette and cuppa (ok, placed them down) and pounded down the front stairs and over to the fence that seperates us from the neighbours.
I wasn’t quick enough! The white cat gripped my baby bird even more firmly and then bolted with it as I reached even further over the fence in a vain attempt to rescue the magpie (and I nearly lost my balance too, though didn’t care). The cat ran off with the bird, feathers flying everywhere and the strangled cries of its victim slowing. The bird was dying.
Our neighbours aren’t particularly nice people, and I wasn’t going to risk a tresspassing charge, which could see me losing my family, so I had to let the magpie go.
I was heartbroken, holding back tears and sobs, at what had 
happened. All my life, I have been a ‘friend’ to the birds (and any other wildlife that comes a calling) and I couldn’t save this one little darling (who was a rather naughty bird).
The rest of the magpie group hung around a few minutes more, and then they disappeared. For several days, they stayed away, and I’ve wanted to cry every time I go outside because they just haven’t been there. My ’shadows’ were gone, flown off to mourn the loss of their child, sibling and possible future mate. Me, I wish I could have gone with them, as looking towards the neighbours was filling me with anger. (more…)
To see each and every person directly affected to take some of the debris from their now ruined homes, or those of neighbours. Why? To make a tribute to what they have lost, lived through and a reminder of what they want to achieve in life.
If I had been down there and lost everything, I’d be rebuilding for sure, and making a memory nook in my garden where I could go and remember the lives destroyed by the fires. I could also be there and remind myself of the strength I have gained and would certainly use the memory nook to help me keep my life on track.
I actually had some strange dreams about it and thought I’d share my ideas, no matter how corny it might sound. In one dream, I saw a garden with a table made out of burnt bricks and metal from a ruined roof with chairs that were somewhat melted. It was surrounded by the beauty of native plants and the bird life was amazing. I woke up in tears, and I am hoping that someone does it because the dream was too real for it not to come true.
My thoughts continue to be with my fellow Aussies who have been through so much, even the ones who are facing homelessness due to flooding. A strange and beautiful country I live in, but scary at the same time.
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