Wednesday 28 February 2007

Lurking

It's funny how much of an outsider I feel, standing on the other side of the wire wearing clean clothes and without my koala smock and customary haze Aeroguard.
Today I'm volunteering at Roto House, a restored 19th century homestead on the same grounds as the koala hospital. I can't resist popping in to the koala hospital to see how the koalas are. I'm immediately bowled over by the The heady eucalyptus odour that hits me as soon as I get out of the car. It's humid today. I already feel inadequately dressed and out of place with my non-koalawrangling clothes on.

I see Peter and Geoff in yard 3 replacing a gunyah (not the koalas Macquarie Peter and Condon Geoff, but the human, wrangler variety). Apparently it was infested with ants. O'Briens Fiona has been temporarily shifted to yard 1 while they install the new beam. I ask Peter what else is new. They managed to recapture Bellevue Bill who was AWOL up a tree in yard 10. He's now in ICU again. I also ask whether Fiona has been behaving herself. The answer is "no": they found her next door in Innes Wonga's yard that morning! She's a wiley critter! Fiona is fine, but Wonga needs a Bex and a lie-down.

I walk over to yard 10. Ross is there. He says it's his last day (again) as he's starting a job. He'll miss the koalas. I'm chatting to him over Warrego Martin's yard, but there's no sign of the koala. Ross points upward. Martin has crawled up the umbrella and is sitting in the spokes like it's an elaborate tree-fork. Ross gently removes the umbrella from its slot and tilts it to the ground. Martin clings on regardless then finally crawls free.

It's funny how much of an outsider I feel, standing on the other side of the wire wearing clean clothes and without my koala smock and customary haze of Aeroguard. I peer down towards yard 9 and see a koala roaming around on the ground. I wander down for a closer look. It's Wiruna Lucky again. She's wandering around the graves of Perch Miracle and Cloud that occupy a corner of the yard. The gothic romantic in me wonders if she's paying some sort of ritual tribute. Emma's suggestion is that she's lonely now that the Old Girls' network has diminished. Ocean Therese, a long-term inhabitant of yard 9 only recently moved to yard 10a. Of course, it can't be that: koalas are lone creatures, but it's hard not to imprint their behaviour with our own values.

Wiruna Lucky visiting Perch Miracle's grave

Click here to view more of today's koala hospital photos.

Sunday 25 February 2007

Building up Fiona's strength

These girls are old, have been through a lot, and are fairly institutionalised, so their behaviour is not exactly textbook 'koala'.

O'Briens Fiona
From koalawrangler's gallery.
I'm on the Sunday afternoon shift which consists mostly of feeding and watering leaf. There are just three of us on duty: Joyce, Mary and me. I start taking towels off the line as it's overcast and looks like rain. Joyce is showing some people around up in yard 10. Mary is sorting things out in the dayroom.

There's a crowd gathering so we start feeding. I haven't fed that naughty escape-artist, O'Briens Fiona before, so I pick her. She's very interested in the food, leaning out towards me and poking her tongue out for more when there's a break in the flow of formula. Mary starts on Innes Wonga in yard 2 and Joyce is feeding Kempsey Carolina.

With Fiona's leaf watered, I head into yard 9. Mary is feeding Birthday Girl and I notice a koala prowling around on the ground. It's Wiruna Lucky. Bonny Fire is up a tree. Mary makes up Lucky's formula and I ask if I can feed her; I've never fed a koala at ground level before. Mary warns me to call to her gently as I approach so as not to startle her: Lucky's eyesight is poor due to her cataracts. She comes towards me gingerly so I stop in front of her and ground down. She sucks on the syringe but doesn't come any closer so I cross my legs and sit down before her. There's quite a crowd at the fence watching this spectacle as it's unusual for a koala to be out of its tree/gunyah for long. These girls are old, have been through a lot, and are fairly institutionalised, so their behaviour is not exactly textbook 'koala'.

Wiruna Lucky

I finish watering yard 9 and see that the babies in yard 9a are putting on a spectacle for the 3pm tour. Both Kim and Links are on the gunyah; Links has come up behind Kimmy and has curled a paw around her waist. Kimmy turns her head and they sniff each other for a while which is hard not to imagine as canoodling -- it's delightful to see. Later Kimmy takes off up the tree and proceeds to dangle on one of the spindly far branches. She deposits herself on the roof of the umbrella like a net in a trapeze act and rejoins the trunk of the tree from there.

Ocean Kim & Links VTR

Back in the kitchen I see that Tozer Tom's formula is still on the table. I head off with it to yard 10. Joyce and Mary have just finished feeding Therese and Golfer. Tozer Tom is asleep and barely wakes while I feed him. He pauses in between squirts like he's thinking about whether or not to just nod off again. I keep changing position to regain his interest in the syringe.

Tozer Tom

Another koala is brought in by a couple called Tom and Bev. This one brings today's total admissions to four. Cathie Samson has been at the hospital before. His ailment this time is severe diarrhoea. There's no room in ICU so we make up a fifth unit in the aviaries. This is the first time I've seen more than four aviaries in use. There's leaf from the leafshed and we decide to put towels down, usually reserved for wet bottoms. Samson has a wet bottom of a different kind.

I check in on yard 9 and Bonny Fire's down from her tree. I return with her food and feed her, which she's pleased about. I finish folding the towels then do a quick mop of the treatment room and day-room before heading home.

Click here to view more of today's koala hospital photos.

Setting a koala trap

Just then Barb announces that three new koalas are being brought in: one motor vehicle accident and two wet bottoms. She asks me to set up three new units in ICU, which fills ICU to capacity.

Koala trap
From koalawrangler's gallery.
It's the Sunday shift and I'm assiged the aviaries...that is until Peter realises I've done the aviaries two shifts running and might just be suffering aviary burnout. He gives me yard 10 instead. I head off there and am shortly joined by Beatrice, a volunteer I haven't met before. I recognise her name though. She's the one who witnessed the Bellevue Bill making his way into Links Lorna's boudoir one evening. Bill, by the way, had been re-released to a smaller yard in yard 10. He promptly knocked over his umbrella, scaled the wall and headed north up the nearest tree in the main part of yard 10. Currently, he and Tractive Golfer are up adjacent trees. The umbrellas are designed for shelter, but some koalas have other plans for them. It's a matter of determining which koalas will use them for the former and which for the latter.

Beatrice and I carry on in yard 10. We had to wait until one of the vets came to check the leaf and poop and take poop samples, so we start on the non-research koalas: Ocean Therese and Tractive Golfer. Both are high up their respective trees so neither can be fed yet. I'm sorting out Golfer's recycle and Beatrice is on Therese's leaf. We split the remaining sub-yards between us: I've got Macquarie Peter and Warrego Martin, my two favourite boys; while Beatrice has Links Lorna and Tozer Tom. We finish here quickly, which is good, since Beatrice has to go out on a rescue. One of the smaller yards in yard 10 has to be set up for Oxley Jo to move into; Jim says he'll look after that.

Warrego Martin
Warrego Martin
From koalawrangler's gallery.
I head into ICU where Ian is still working on the time-consuming wet-bottom side. I see that Oxley Westi's unit still needs to be cleaned so I set about doing that. Just then Barb announces that three new koalas are being brought in: one motor vehicle accident and two wet bottoms. She asks me to set up three new units in ICU, which fills ICU to capacity.

There is already a koala in the ICU treatment room, sealed in a rescue basket. I get moving cutting new leaf, filling water bowls and dirt containers, laying newspaper. They bring in the motor vehicle accident victim, Melaleuca Alfie. He is an amazingly calm koala. He sits on the treatment table without a bag or any kind of restraint, sipping the fluid Peter syringes into his mouth. When I enter the room to take a photo, he turns his head and follows me with his eyes. What an adorable, trusting fellow. It turns that his genitals were injured in the car accident. He may have trouble urinating.

Melaleuca Alfie
Melaleuca Alfie
From koalawrangler's gallery.
I'm finishing the new units when I see another koala in the treatment room. This one is named Cattlebrook John. He was found sitting on the ground, listless and unmoving. It's not certain what has caused his lethargy. He's still nestled in his rescue basket, sort of lounging back into it. When Andrea tries to examine him closer, he ducks out from under her. He doesn't want to move but he doesn't want to be touched either. When they put him in his unit, the leaf pots are moved to the floor and he stays in the basket.

I run into Lorna in the dayroom. She hands me my name badge which was on order and has now arrived. Now I'm official and the koalas will be able to call me by name :)

Click here to view more of today's koala hospital photos.

Friday 23 February 2007

It's the quiet ones you worry about

...being a fruitcake koala means being a real koala -- not tame and used to human contact.

Siren Gem
From koalawrangler's gallery.
It seems that joey Siren Gem is learning bad habits from the older the koalas. I caught him trying to "nose" his way out of his yard on Friday. Maybe he's lonely without that reprobate Woody. Who knows, maybe he's developed Stockholm Syndrome and actually misses him.

Today I'm in the aviaries again. It's a bit deflating having to face Ellenborough Nancy again as she can be difficult to manoeuvre around. Andrea, one of the researchers from Sydney Uni, offers to bag her while I muck out her aviary. I tell her I'll try to manage with her there, but if she pulls any other ninja towel stunts, she's outa there!

I start with Oceanview Terry. He's managed to tip out all the leaf from one pot. I examine it and it seems to comprise mainly slender branches. I set out to prepare him a huge lush set of leaves this morning. Andrea comes through with a bag. She's taking Oxley Jo off to take some blood. I pounce on the opportunity to clean out her aviary sans koala. It's MUCH easier to clean an aviary/unit when there's no koala there; it's so much less stressful for them. Oh, and me.

Lookout Harry's aviary is easy-going; I learned from yesterday that he just needs a bit of leaf to amuse him. Then he lets you go about your business.

I dread finishing the other three: it means Nancy's next. What I really dislike about it, is the feeling that she has an aversion to me. Of course, such a thing isn't possible, but it's hard not to take things personally (like when she swipes at you). I confide in Peter that I really think Nancy doesn't like me; he jokes that Nancy doesn't like anybody. She's made more than one person bleed before. That makes me feel better. Being as wild as Nancy is means that she's as real as a koala gets -- not tame and used to human contact like many of the koalas around Port who've gotten used to people.

When I enter her unit, Nancy's sitting quietly in among her leaf. She is so quiet, it's eerie. I clean her aviary without a sound or a movement from her. It's not a good sign when feral koalas go quiet. It's better when they're a bit loco; it means they haven't given up the fight.

Click here to view more of today's koala hospital photos.

Thursday 22 February 2007

Fiona's great escape

Of all the koalas I've dealt with here I'm convinced Ellenborough Nancy has a personal vendetta against me. I've had miffed expressions and eeps and flicky ears, but Nancy's the only one who's ever taken a full-on swipe.

Bonny Fire
From koalawrangler's gallery.
Well, it's Thursday again, which means it's koala time! Amanda is mixing formula in the staff-room as I walk in. I've brought some newspapers from home so I take them through ICU to the newspaper box.

I'm removing staples from the Good Weekend when Amanda tears past me and grabs a basket. There must be a rescue afoot. Then Andrea dashes through toting a koala-nabbing bag. I walk into the dayroom to see what's happened. An as-yet-unidentified koala is wandering around outside its yard (but still in the main part of the hospital) and Amanda and Andrea have gone off to bag it. It could be a wild koala from outside paying the koalas inside a visit (it' happened before); or it could be an inside koala trying to get out. I greet the smiling pair at the door triumphantly carrying a koalaful bag between them. Amanda is exultant and does a happy dance.

In the treatment room, we discover that the koala has a tag so it's one of ours. There were no koalas missing from any of the yards when Amanda did her rounds this morning. Amanda is finding the koala log books and Andrea asks me to delve into the bag and check the tag number on its ear. I gutlessly decline, saying I'm not yet experienced with hand-to-hand koala-wrangling. But I conjecture that it could be O'Briens Fiona, of Fiona Houdini fame. Amanda is certain that she saw a koala in yard 2 (Fiona's yard) not half an hour ago. When Fiona was brought back in during the week, she'd been rehoused in yard 2 which is the corner yard. They'd deliberately avoided putting her in that yard previously when she was released from ICU since she was an obvious flight risk. Amanda and I are scouring the log books for no.736 and BINGO! It's that wiley O'Briens Fiona after all. Andrea and Amanda decide to keep her in a rescue basket for the time-being until they decide what to do with her. I'm wondering when she's going to escape from a straitjacket and handcuffs while housed in a padlocked box underwater, like I saw Tony Curtis do in a movie once.

I've been allocated the "girls" of yard 9 with Tricia, a bubbly woman whom I remember tending lovingly to Cloud when she was ICU, way back on my first shift. We start the feeding first. Tricia takes Bonny Fire; Wiruna Lucky is ensconsed up a tree. I tend to Birthday Girl who feeds quickly and easily. She's currently sharing her gunyah with a kookaburra who's stopped by.

Tricia is having some trouble with Bonny who keeps wandering off during feeding. I look around in time to see Bonny scamper awkwardly up the wooden beam that connects the gunyah to the nearest tree which currently houses Lucky Wiruna. She then obviously decides better of it and backs her way back down for more food. Bonny isn't keeping up with the rate the formula's being squirted in so it starts to dribble down her chin. White droplets bespeckle her front and hind paws, sitting on on top of her springy fur like dew.

There's an extended T-shaped gunyah in yard 9 as well as a stand-alone gunyah that Birthday Girl generally calls home. This means lots of poop-raking and scooping. Tricia is dealing with yesterday's recycled leaf and watering their water dishes. I look over towards yard 6, the joey yard, and there's Siren Gem perched atop her roof like a cherry on an icecream. He's on his own now, since naughty Woody was released. The word in the yard is that he's not gaining weight as readily as the staff would like. He's probably traumatised after the bullying he copped from the other joey, Lady Nelson Woody. Oh well, enough star-struck joey-adoration: there's plenty of work to do here.

Siren Gem
Siren Gem
From koalawrangler's gallery.
There are seven leaf pots in this yard. Back in the day-room, Cheyne and Amanda agreed that we should reduce the girls' supply to two bundles of fresh leaf (divided into four pots) and two pots of recycled (that is, yesterday's) leaf. As there's only one leaf rack in yard 9, I head out to find another rack I can use for cutting up my bundle. Just before I do, there's a splashing sound; I turn and half expect to see a koala washing its face in a water trough. No, it's a magpie that's dunked itself in the freshly filled water. It's fluttering its wings and sloshing water everywhere like it's in a wading pool.

There's also yard 9a to do. That's the small, circular yard that occupies one corner of yard 9 and houses the babies Links VTR and Ocean Kim. Kimmy is wrapped around the tree while Links is predictably down on his gunyah, nestled in leaf. Then, to my delight, Linksy starts climbing. He gets as far as Kimmy so that at one point they're both wrapped around the same bit of tree, but on opposite sides, circumscribing the trunk with their paws. Then Links keeps climbing! He settles in a spot above Kimmy, the highest I've seen him go. Not to be outdone, however, Kim moves past him and Links returns to the lower branches, his excitement over for one day. This is exciting since Links hardly ever climbs since he fell from the tree in the joey yard.

After yard 9, Amanda suggests I help Jarrod in the aviaries. He's just about finished Oceanview Terry and is about to start on Oxley Jo. Jo is the baby-faced one who stared at me the whole time I cleaned her aviary last time; the vet staff were worried that she wasn't eating her leaf, but judging by the amount of poo on the ground she's eating well.

Oxley Jo
Oxley Jo
From koalawrangler's gallery.
With Terry and Jo being done, this leaves Lookout Harry and...ulp...Ellenborough Nancy, the headcase. Of all the koalas I've dealt with here I'm convinced this one has a personal vendetta against me. I've had miffed expressions and eeps and flicky ears, but Nancy's the only one who's ever taken a full-on swipe. She always regards me with what looks like menace. (Although since her conjunctivitus is improving, she doesn't look quite as grumpy as before). Cheyne, the hospital supervisor, says we shouldn't 'project' human feelings onto the koalas (because they're probably wrong), but I can't help it with this one.

Even Lookout Harry is demonstrating fruitloop behaviour, climbing the mesh walls of his aviary and stalking about his cage like, well, a caged animal. Hmm, knew that metaphor came from somewhere. He's overturned his water bowl and his dirt bowl, coating his floor in a muddy sludge. I grab some of last night's unused leaf, dampen it down and add it to his pot to calm him down.

With Bill preoccupied, I decide to do Nancy's aviary first to get it out of the way. Nancy is on the ground when I enter. In some ways, this is good since it means that her gunyah is free to retowel. In other ways, this is bad since you're in an enclosed space with a slightly crazy animal pacing the floor. In fact, as soon as I unravel the towel, she grabs it using what looks like a ninja move -- all scissoring paws (and, I embellish, gnashing teeth). I decide she can have that towel if she wants it. I toss the towel towards her and she continues to claw at it. I quickly try to cut the string holding the old towel onto the gunyah and replace it with the new towel. This means I still need another towel (one's not long enough, you always need two). Nancy has one and she's not about to give it up. So back to ICU for another towel.

When I return, Nancy is at the door -- in fact, she's attached to the door. There's no way I'm going in there. I decide to finish off Lookout Harry's aviary while Nancy calms down. He's chewing away at the bit of leaf I gave him and taking no notice of me as I rake up his sodden newsprint. He's a wet bottom too so I have to cut and replace his towel. I do my trick of preparing his fresh leaf first so I can coax him towards the newly towelled end. All goes well. Now back to scary Nancy.

She's still at the door as though forbidding me entry. I do a few other chores, like take the leaf pin out to the skip to empty it, before returning to see if Nancy's backed off (literally). Yes, another metaphor in the flesh. Fortunately she's on her gunyah. I assuage her grumpiness with fresh leaf and finish tying her towel. What a relief.

Most people are finished their work now. I have a green tea with Amanda and Jarrad then go and mop down the floor in ICU. Bellevue Bill who was previously in unit 1 but relocated to yard 10 is now back in unit 1. There's a little whiteboard sign outside his unit which usually indicates the patient's name and diagnosis; instead it reads: Bellevue Bill: A very naughty boy. It seems that Bill escaped his outside own yard, made his way through the adjacent yard and then found his way into the neighbouring yard belonging to poor skittish little Links Lorna. I can imagine the prim and proper Miss Lorna eeping in outrage at the prospect of a brutish man-koala breaking into her room!

Birthday Bill is a very naughty boy!

Amanda has a group of elderly ladies to show around the hospital so she asks me to wash up the feeding pots. Afterwards I make a final check of O'Briens Fiona who's been allocated to an inside yard, yard 1. She's fast asleep, no doubt plotting her next escape attempt in her eucalyptus-fuelled dreams.

Click here to view more of today's koala hospital photos.

Tuesday 20 February 2007

When nice joeys turn naughty

Judy deftly plucks him from the gunyah, but Woody puts up a struggle, squeaking and nibbling on her arm. Vina grabs his feet and the two of them make for the staff-room with the naughty joey dangling between them.

Lady Nelson Woody
From koalawrangler's gallery.
I'm doing Tuesday arvo -- another day I've not done before. Vina is team leader and is lovely and welcoming. In fact, she's quite hands-off, which is great now that I know the ropes here better.

I suggest that I go off to yard 10 to water some leaf. I fill Tractive Golfer's and Ocean Therese's leaf pots and wet their leaf. Ocean Therese is high in her tree which is good news: they're trying to get her muscles used to climbing again. I decide not to disturb the sleeping koalas on the front row by watering their leaf yet; it's better to wait until the crowd comes by so that they can see the koalas waking up.

I see that there's a koala in yard 2, the corner yard near the entrance. Back in the staff-room, I'm disappointed to see on the board that it's O'Briens Fiona. She was the feisty one in ICU who was always trying to escape. Fiona was released a short time ago but is back in as she's sadly underweight. She was found low in a tree: that may mean that she's not getting around to the good leaf. They're fattening her up again with formula. It worries me that koalas put back in the wild are struggling to do what comes naturally.

Kempsey Carolina

Vina suggests I feed Kempsey Carolina. She's in a great position near the front of the gunyah facing the crowd. I wait till the guide leads them around to us before I start feeding. Kempsey is leaning out of the gunyah towards me, looking beseechingly for food. She's slopping her feed everywhere as usual so I wipe her fuzzy lip with a washer. Then it's a dash to the kitchen to grab the feeds for yard 9. Wiruna Lucky is in a prime position for the tourists to see her feed.

The group moves on and I start on Bonny Fire who's reaching out her paws to get formula. I notice that Barb is over in the joey yard. She comes in to yard 9 and tells me some very sad news: little Settlement Point Steffi has had to be euthanased. I had a dreadful feeling that might happen, but was holding out hope that it wouldn't. Barb says she was too near death to not put her out of her misery. The poor little angel. Barb goes to check on her other troubled little baby, Links VTR, who is hesitant about climbing after the nasty fall from the tree last year that dented his nose.

I feed Birthday Girl and finish watering the yard. Vina is in the joey yard checking Siren Gem, who was sleeping down on the gunyah for a change, for ticks. I can hear her eeping in protest as Vina frisks her. She's found four ticks already, she tells me.

Suddenly we're joined by Lady Nelson Woody (a male, despite the name). He looks like butter wouldn't melt in his mouth, but Woody's the naughty bullyboy joey who was tormenting Siren Gem the other day.

Lady Nelson Woody

No sooner is he down by Gem's side than he starts biting him again. Naughty little monkey! Vina goes to grab Woody to separate them and we call Judy over to witness the naughtiness first hand. Judy decides it's time Woody gets weighed but he takes off up the tree out of reach. Because he can.

Lady Nelson Woody & Siren Gem

Soon enough though, he bounds back down the tree and onto the roof. He's charging about and at one point he looks like he may leap off the edge and onto my head. It's hard to know what he'll do!

It's like he's determined to come down and torment Gem, even if it means being captured for it. Judy deftly plucks him from the gunyah, but Woody puts up a struggle, squeaking and nibbling on her arm. Vina grabs his feet and the two of them make for the staff-room with the naughty joey dangling between them. I ask if they need a bag and whip one off the clothesline as we're passing. They pop him in.

On the scales he's over 4 kilos. He only needs to be 3.5 kilos for release. Judy decides to keep him in an ICU unit overnight for release the next day. I offer to cut up leaf from the leaf shed. Judy says I can use the leaf that was destined for Settlement Point Steffi. How sad!

Outside, I deftly cut up two bunches of leaf and bring them into the unit. Judy deposits Woody into the dark room. He looks quite disoriented. I tell him he's in isolation for being a naughty little koala. An agro-ala.

I learned something new today -- Oxley Westi doesn't have a pinky after all. It's just a fold in her pouch. At least her eyes are improving, even if she's not a mother.

Click here to view more of today's koala hospital photos.

Sunday 18 February 2007

Innes Wonga

Kempsey is perched out in the middle of her gunyah looking rather exposed without any leaf around her. The recycled pot is down one end and she's sitting in the middle of the beam like a fuzzy, squat tightrope walker.

Innes Wonga
From koalawrangler's gallery.
Peter asked me to come in today, Sunday. I haven't worked Sunday mornings before and I find it has a different vibe to other days. Since I've become a 'regular' (one of the koalarati, perhaps?), I find myself getting things done in record time (assuming I don't have ticks to mark up, which involves lots of doubletracking to and from the dayroom).

Cheryle, who I met at koala rescue training, is allocated to yard 9; Emma whose koala pics I discovered on Flickr is working in the ICU.

There's a guy called Ian doing Kempsey Carolina and the joeys. I've got Innes Wonga and Henry (who's way up his tree). I haven't fed Wonga before, he's the fellow with the arthritic left knee. Anne identifies with Wonga's ailment; she's got an arthritic left knee too.

Wonga must be enjoying her food because they're is a TONNE of poop around her gunyah. I recall Ros having trouble feeding him the other day, but today he drinks it all up like a good little bear. I rake and scoop poop in Wonga's and Henry's yards and make up a new recycled pot from their previous day's leaf. I check in to see how joeys are faring -- they're up in the tree but on adjacent branches so perhaps they've made up after their spat on Friday.

Macquarie Peter
Macquarie Peter
From koalawrangler's gallery.
Macquarie Peter
Macquarie Peter
From koalawrangler's gallery.

I suggest to Peter that I might go and help Jim in yard 10; it's got six koalas now which is too much for one person. Jim welcomes the help. He says when he arrived the koalas seemed sleepy, like they'd had a big night. I notice they've all got big outdoor umbrellas over their gunyahs to give them additional shelter. They koalas all look damp as it rained heavily in the night and the umbrellas aren't waterproof. They all appear to have woken up now, except Links Lorna who's burrowed into her leaf. Warrego Martin and Macquarie Peter are quite frisky, jumping off their gunyahs and prowling around the perimeters of their yards.

Chris arrives with the leaf so I go to prepare Wonga and Henry's bundles. There's always a rush for the good cutters -- I prefer the smaller ones with the orange handles as they're easier to wield. I'm becoming a dab hand at leaf cutting now.

Once I've finished with Wonga and Henry I notice that Poor Kempsey is perched out in the middle of her gunyah looking rather exposed without any leaf around her. The recycled pot is down one end and she's sitting in the middle of the beam like a fuzzy, squat tightrope walker. I generally try to leave the pot closest to the koala intact so as to disrupt them as little as possible. So, I decide to replenish Kempsey's leaf and then go back to yard 10 to help Jim. I fix Therese's leaf and then head into ICU. There are three types of leaf today; Chris is going back to get a fourth. The koalas need a bit of choice as this is the usual way they feed -- seeking out different types of desirable leaf.

Chris's second leaf trip is delayed when Chris and Ellen are dispatched on a rescue go out on rescue. When they return, they've brought a big male in a bag. He was found at the corner of Major Innes and Ruins Way. They call him Innes Tony. He barks.

I talk to Barb who's in the treatment room. Her little Steffi has now developed massive bruising on her entire front, no doubt from her fall. Judy tells me about her little joey, Cathie John, who has wet bottom, which is rare in joeys. The vet says he might have contracted it from the mother's pap, which is unusual.

We talk about koala intelligence and agree that they are intelligent about the things they need to be. Unfortunately, koalas don't see dogs as a threat. That must be why they accept us humans around them. It takes a lot for them to lash out.

Click here to view more of today's koala hospital photos.

Friday 16 February 2007

Joeyz in da hood

We all stare up at the squabbling joeys like it's a sort of punch-and-judy show with live fluffy handpuppets.

Wiruna Lucky
From koalawrangler's gallery.
After having lunch at home with D___, I head back to the koala hospital. I'm a bit tired now. Although, I'm not getting as dog-tired as I did when I first started koala-wrangling back in the day, the mornings are still fatiguing. I'm wearing the same dirt-stained clothes. There are muddy smears up my legs and dirt in the creases of my elbow. I hung my smock over my car seat so at least that's dry.

Wendy is mixing formula. Gwen, the usual team-leader, will be in later. There seems to be quite a few helpers here -- Geoff, Erin the animal science student from the morning shift, Mary from Sundays, Yasmin from Thursdays, and a few others. On Sunday arvo there were only three of us so this seems like a host of thousands by comparison. I ask if I'm superfluous (because I feel like I'd be quite happy to go home and put my feet up at this point), but I'm assured that there'll be plenty for me to do.

I get started on the towels from this morning. They're almost dry but not quite. Wendy has been giving them a quick 'burst' in the dryer to dry them off. Erin is wandering about so I ask her to help me with the washing. Suddenly we hear a commotion in yard 6. The two joeys are not only wide awake (instead of slouched in their trees), they are scampering about the roof of their shelter. I recognise Siren Gem as the one without the ear-tag. The other tagged male is Lady Nelson Woody. At first it seems like they're playing, but then it becomes clear that it's more rough-housing than playing and it's quite one-sided. Gem is sitting at the edge of the roof while Woody is biting at his ear and thwacking him intermittently with his paw. I start calling out (like they'd listen to me...), "hey, that's a bit rough; that's not nice!".

Siren Gem & Lady Nelson Woody
Siren Gem and Lady Nelson Woody
From koalawrangler's gallery.

A crowd is forming outside the yards' wire fence as the tourists wait for the 3pm tour; but the handlers are all standing and gawping at the joeys' shenanigans. Suddenly, Woody stops the attack, turns tail and bounds away to the tree like a rabbit; he scrambles up the tree, looks down for moment then leaps to the roof like he's a sugarglider. He repeats the same process again. Down the tree, over to Gem, whom he gives a bite, a wack and a scratch, then bounds off up the tree. His movements are spritely like a puppy (yes, he's run the gamut of Noah's ark in all of 10 seconds); I'm so used to seeing them wedged in their tree branches unmoving. But I try not to be taken in by his cuteness. Poor Gem is eeping in protest but not fighting back. He just sits still, cornered, awaiting the next onslaught. I decide to take matters into my own hands and race off to get Geoff.

Geoff takes the joey bullying seriously and tears off after me. We all stare up at the squabbling joeys like it's a sort of punch-and-judy show with live fluffy handpuppets. Finally, the joeys separate -- Woody heads east and Gem west. Gem climbs as far out as he can, as far away from Woody as possible. He's hooking his paws and swinging around the slender leafy branch tips in a way that resembles a monkey. He's right at the end of the branch overhanging yard 9 and for a minute we worry that he might fall in. Fortunately, he settles down and reclaims his branch. Geoff says this sort of thing would go on if they were in the wild, where there would be nothing we could do about it. However, in this situation, Woody is a healthy joey who's been fattening up in the koala Club Med for the last few weeks; they're just waiting till he's big enough to release. Gem, on the other hand, is still in R&R.

Woody's been in that yard for at least as long as I've been working at the hospital so he's obviously king joey in da hood. Plus, he's just lost his posse, with Irwin and Lucky being released and Kimmy being reassigned to yard 9A. I'm determined to let Barb or Judy know so they can think about moving the two bully-boys (Burraneer Henry and Woody) in together and leaving Gem to recuperate in peace.

The shift hasn't even really begun and already there's been so much excitement. I start off in yard 9 with Yasmin. I wake Bonny Fire and try to feed her. Unfortunately she's facing towards Birthday Girl who's coming to and looking interested in Bonny's formula. I try to get her to face the other way, towards the tourists but no luck. She keeps stopping her feeding to eat leaf so it takes forever. Yasmin finishes Wiruna Lucky and starts on Birthday Girl. I water the leaf on all the gunyahs then head to the ICU.

Not much needs to be done in there. Cheyne has taken Oxley Westi home for the weekend. An veterinary opthalmologist came in to look at Westi's eyes. Fortunately, he decided that the cream they'd been applying had resulted in some improvement. He recommended continuing with it, but three times a day, which Cheyne said she'd do at home. Westi's unit just needs to be carefully swept. There's a lot of poop on top of the paper. Bellevue Bill also needs to be fed. I ask Erin which she'd rather do; she can't decide.

I go in to feed Bill but he is heartily chewing away at his leaf. I don't want to discourage this as they need to keep their strength up with leaf. I notice that there is a formula pot with his name on it on the window sill. This is obviously from this morning's unsuccessful attempt. I also notice that there is a longish pink thing poking down from his fur. It's his penis! I remember learning on my very first shift that koalas have a freaky bifurcated penis, but this is the first time I've seen one. The top is two-pronged like a serpent's tongue. This warrants some internet investigation, I feel.(What must the Google people think when they get the search query 'koala penis'?).

That night at home, D___ and I are watching 24. I generally ask a lot of rhetorical questions (ie criticisms) during the show, or give a running commentary. Tonight I wonder out loud: "why do they spend so much time on the petty work grievances between the staff in ICU?".

D___ sighs. "It's CTU, not ICU. You have ICU at the koala hospital."

Oh, yeah.

I'm accused of having 'koala brain'. Maybe I won't do back-to-back shifts again.

Click here to view more of today's koala hospital photos.

Settlement Point Steffi

The joeys are both awake and staring down at me from their lofty pedestals like fluffy-earred gargoyles. I love their icy superiority! They look down on us like so many ants scurrying about doing their bidding.

Siren Gem & Lady Nelson Woody
From koalawrangler's gallery.
Like the koala-mad person that I've become, I'm doing a double-shift today. I'm usually scheduled to do Friday mornings, but Lorna called and asked if I'd do the arvo as well. I simply can't refuse the little furry-faced ones...oh, and the koalas (yuk, yuk).

Barb's mixing up formula as I arrive. I ask her about the call-out from Sunday arvo: a koala had been chased up a palm tree by a dog. When Barb went out to check, there were too many smaller trees in the way; she couldn't get close enough to see if the koala was in need of help. Being a palm tree, the koala wouldn't be sticking around.

Barb assigns me Kempsey Carolina and yard 6, where the youngest remaining joeys (Siren Gem and Lady Nelson Woody) reside. Normally, Kempsey is 'reserved' for Andrew, but he's not coming in today.

With formula pot in one hand, I climb up on a stool to start feeding Kempsey, but then reel back suddenly. On the leaf right in front of her face (and mine) is a spider the size of a volkswagon. It's lucky Kempsey is blind as I proceed, for the next few minutes, to flail a rake madly right in front of her face, trying to flick the spider off the leaf. It drops to the ground and curls up in a sort of commando somersault fashion. (The spider not the koala.) I squash it with the heel of my blunnie.

Rain is threatening. There are a few drops and finally the heavens open up and give the ground a good drenching. I suggest to Anne that we get the towels off the line. She gives a look over her shoulder and predicts that it'll soon be fine, but I, the city-girl, start tearing the damp towels off in a frenzy of pegs and face-washers. I put a pile in the dryer, but, sure enough, the shower passes and the sun comes out. I hang the towels back on the line, wasting a good 15 minutes with the whole process.

The leaf isn't ready yet so I go to prepare the joey yard. The joeys are both awake and staring down at me from their lofty pedestals like fluffy-earred gargoyles. I love their icy superiority! They look down on us like so many ants scurrying about doing their bidding.

Kempsey is usually in the middle of her gunyah where there is leaf cover, or nestled in one of the forks at the end closest to the ICU. For some reason she's taken herself down the opposite end where there's no leaf and has perched on edge, facing out as though preparing to launch herself off the gunyah. I immediately think of Kate Winslet in Titanic.

Kempsey Carolina
Kempsey Carolina
From koalawrangler's gallery.

There's a few people in today so not much for me to do in the ICU. Plus there are two or three vacancies in here, what with several of the boys (Macquarie Peter, Tozer Tom and Warrego Martin) having been transferred to yard 10. So all I do is help Geoff out with Bellevue Bill's leaf. (His name always reminds me of that serial killer in Silence of the Lambs. What was it? That's right, Buffalo Bill.)

Barb arrives back with her new little joey. Siren Gem has just been discharged from her place and into yard 6 with Lady Nelson Woody. But the same day, she and Judy were called out to a holiday village near Settlement Point to pick up another one. The holiday-makers had been enjoying frequent sightings of what they thought was a small koala in the trees surrounding the village. Then, on Tuesday, the koala was seen lying flat on her face in the rain at the bottom of a tree. The people who reported it were out-of-towners so didn't realise that a small koala might actually be an abandoned joey which would require aid. Had they known to call when they had first seen her, she might have been saved the ordeal that followed.


Settlement Point Steffi
From koalawrangler's gallery.
When Barb and Jude got there, they were sure she was dead. She was lying flat with her arms splayed out at her sides. She was drenched to the skin after the heavy overnight rains and barely alive. They took her to Judy's, towelled her off and dried her with a hair-dryer. Since Judy already had a joey, Barb took her in at her place. She was named Settlement Point Steffi.

I look forward to Steffi's getting past her present troubles, to be well enough to join the joeys in yard 6 and come to look down on me with the same blend of surliness and complacency.

Over morning tea I flick through the daybook. I see that Elizabeth Noddy has been released. Another little joey was released with Belah Irwin, Oxley Lucky -- one that Judy raised. They don't treat joeys as having a home-range like grown koalas. They usually just release them to a safe area, and typically with another joey in a sort of buddy system.

I see that Tasman Rose was dispatched to the heavenly gumtree. She was the little female koala brought in the same day as Sandfly Jye. She wouldn't take the clear formula but wouldn't resist me either. She just sat there and let me squirt the liquid at her mouth, delicately lapping at it from time to time. I ask one of the vets what happened to her. Apparently, she had a mammarian tumour. Despite her size, she was quite old. I suppose it's good that she lived a long life then, and was saved from a painful death.

Click here to view more of today's koala hospital photos.

Thursday 15 February 2007

Ocean Therese and Tractive Golfer

Warrego Martin climbs back up his gunyah to the highest point and looks longingly at the tree in his yard, which is covered to prevent climbing (and hence escaping). I've seen this look before -- it's the closest a koala gets to an expression of calculation.

Tractive Golfer
From koalawrangler's gallery.
It was nice to see Amanda today. I missed my shift last Thursday and she was away for the previous two weeks, so it has been a while since I've koala'd under her tutelage. There are two new faces -- one male, one female: Jarrod and Erin. Amanda puts me on yard 10 with Yasmin.

Yard 10 is a delight compared to the cramped confines of the aviaries. That yard only used to house Tractive Golfer, who had free run of the place, until they subdivided the space along the edge of the yard into separate smaller yards -- about five or six of them. There's also a separate circular yard within yard 10 which tends to be the climber-rehab yard. It's where Treetop Boxer resided briefly before his release. It has its own tree which is not covered in a metal casing to prevent climbing, as many of them are. Rather, they've put Ocean Therese in there to encourage her to use her climbing muscles. In yard 9 she spent most of the day lounging around under a shade on her gunyah.

I clear out her water bowl and notice a large pellet-shaped object floating in it. I confer with Yasmin and we agree that it's a tick. I take it inside and Amanda tells me, no, it's only a swollen piece of poop -- get rid of it! I guess I'll have to work on honing my razor-sharp tick identification skills...

I return to yard 10 where I'm scheduled to feed Ocean Therese, but she's half way up her tree. Yasmin suggests I rattle the lid so she knows there's food. Once she knows formula's in the offing she starts to back her way down, her white rounded bottom bobbing all the way.

Ocean Therese
Ocean Therese
From koalawrangler's gallery.

By the time I let myself into her yard, she's actually climbed all the way from the tree to the gunyah to the ground. I crouch down over her and start to syringe the food in. Once again, I'm touched by having this fuzzy little face upturned towards me, a brown warmth in her eyes in the soft morning light. I haven't been so close to Therese before and I can immediately see her baby's resemblance to her. Ocean Kim was thrown from Ocean Therese when she was hit by a car on Ocean Drive. For some reason, koala mothers cease to recognise their young if they become separated. So Kim and Therese have been at the hospital in side-by-side yards without knowing (or caring) that the other is there :(

>Ocean Therese
Ocean Therese
From koalawrangler's gallery.

Yasmin and I were discussing this when I remark that they seem to put the joeys together for company, like a little orphanage. Apparently, after Ocean Kim was put in with Links VTR and Burraneer Henry, the doe-eyed Henry became a bit of a bully-boy. He would plant himself at a lower tree branch and refuse to let Kimmy come down for fresh leaf! So Links and Kim were put in yard 9A (where Links is undergoing his own climbing-training) and Henry was packed off to yard 4 on his own.

Ocean Therese

After feeding, Therese wanders off towards her gunyah, but shows no interest in climbing it. She plonked herself on the muddy ground with her legs stuck straight out in front of her and just hung onto the gunyah beam that reached the ground.

"She's probably hot", suggests Yasmin.

Or a bit loopy. It's possible that she may have suffered brain damage as a result of the car accident.

The smaller yards in yard 10 house Macquarie Peter, Warrego Martin, Tozer Tom and Links Lorna. I'm pleased to see Martin and Tom outside after their long weeks inside in ICU. Martin was still inside last week so he continues to explore his yard today. He's a bit timid when I go in, which is strange considering I was much closer to him (by necessity) in the units. He keeps jumping off his gunyah and wandering around the perimeter looking for a way out. Then he climbs back up his gunyah to the highest point and looks longingly at the tree in his yard, which is covered to prevent climbing (and hence escaping). I've seen this look before -- it's the closest a koala gets to an expression of calculation.

The leaf-gatherer's still preparing the bundles so all was can do is get the yards prepped for the leaf. The smaller yards are covered in dried leaf and palm fronds so there's little point in raking them much. I go through and replenish the water bowls and empty out one of the two leaf pots, scrubbing it and filling it with fresh water. Yasmin takes a pot from eepy Lorna who predictably eeps at her in protest.

Amanda and Ross come into the yard. Ross's job has fallen through so he's back on Thursday shift. I don't think anyone wants to leave this place. Yasmin starts a Bachelor of Business on Monday at the local campus of Newcastle Uni. I commiserate with her, there's no money in koalas. She wisely responds that you don't do koala work for the money, but for the love of it.

Ross and Amanda are looking for Tractive Golfer. I mention that I saw Golfer the other day sleeping on his gunyah with his bottom poked out, resting on the beam. She tells me that the way he sits is actually due to scoliosis. I've never seen him up close before. Ross spots him in a tree in the far corner. His face is resting in the crook of the branches, framing it. He'll come down sooner or later when he wants to be fed.

Beautiful Macquarie Peter whom I'd helped Amanda bag in ICU weeks ago, and then looked after in the cramped aviaries, is king of all he surveys out in the yards. He has a gentleness about him, despite his size. Today he adopts a ladies-come-and-get-me stance.

Macquarie Peter
Macquarie Peter
From koalawrangler's gallery.
The leaf is ready and I start preparing Peter's batch. Yasmin is preparing Golfer's. Suddenly we look around and there's Golfer himself crouched by the leaf rack. I've already separated Peter's leaf bundles and doused them in water. They're dripping invitingly from the rack. Golfer reaches up and starts to tuck in. No, you don't, says Yasmin. She tries to distract him with formula. Once he's finished that, I pick up Peter's leaf and Golfer takes off after me. Gimme that leaf! Yasmin grabs a branch and coaxes him towards his own gunyah where there is plenty of leaf. The way she's swinging the branch about, it's like watching her enact an arcane indigenous koala-luring custom. It works -- he follows the wet leaf like the proverbial carrot and the donkey.

Tractive Golfer & Yasmin
Tractive Golfer & Yasmin
From koalawrangler's gallery.

We finish cutting up the leaf for Warrego Martin, Tozer Tom and Links Lorna, then clean up the loose leaf from the yard. I check with Jackie in ICU to see if she needs help. They're almost done in there -- two of the units are empty -- so I go to join the team for a cup of green tea.

Click here to view more of today's koala hospital photos.

Sunday 11 February 2007

The girls of yard 9

My archaic waitressing skills come in handy as I juggle two feeding pots, syringes and face-washers and go to pick up a third.

Bonny Fire
From koalawrangler's gallery.
It's the Sunday arvo shift again and I turn up at about a quarter past 2. Walking in, I can see the back of Ros's head bobbing about out by the clothesline. There are a few tourists littered around the courtyard outside the shop awaiting the 3pm feed.

I walk into the day-room and can hear Joyce's voice issuing from somewhere down in ICU. I look around at the boards and see two new names -- "Tasman Rose", a female, and "Sandfly Jye", a male.

Joyce says I can go and help Ros with the laundry. I start to fold the towels but Ros tells me it's best to leave those for for another lady who's due to come in who doesn't like doing anything that takes her near the koalas. She just folds towels and wets the leaf. I told Ros that for me it's all about the koalas. I endure the grunt work just so I can be near them.


Belah Irwin
From Broken Puzzle's gallery.
Ros takes me into ICU to show me Belah Irwin (named after Steve), one of the joeys from yard 6 who is scheduled for release. Irwin's mother, Belah Frankie, had had to be euthanased so Irwin spent a few weeks with Joyce in home-care. They're keeping him in ICU so that they can monitor him before his release; if he's kept in yard 6 it may be another six weeks before they get him down; the joeys come and go as they please. With Ocean Kim in yard 9a, only two joeys in yard 6 remain.

Lorna arrives but she's happy to head home and back to a book. "One you're writing or reading?", I wittily inquire. This is of course a private joke between me, myself and I (the struggling writer). Still, they think it's amusing. Lorna offers to feed Kempsey Carolina before she leaves to lighten the load a little.

I flick through the day-book and see that several of the koalas I've tended have now been freed: Newport Bridge Gloria, Ellenborough Kelly and O'Briens Fiona. The first two were in the aviaries for a while, and Fiona was in ICU where she used to try out her Houdini act with the door before she was released to an outside yard. It's satisfying when they go free.

Joyce has finished preparing food for the outside yards. There's Innes Wonga on her own in yard 2 and the four girls in yard 9: Ocean Therese, Wiruna Lucky, Bonny Fire and Birthday Girl. Ros takes Innes Wonga, so Joyce and I set off to yard 9. My archaic waitressing skills come in handy as I juggle two feeding pots, syringes and face-washers and go to pick up a third. Joyce won't let me as she thinks I'll drop them. I bow to Joyce's greater wisdom on this matter.

I haven't had much to do with the girls in yard 9; they are like the hospital's national treasures. Now that I know that koalas can be kept in captivity only by exception, I see why these old girls are so precious.

Wiruna Lucky
Wiruna Lucky
From koalawrangler's gallery.

I'm the first to enter the yard and all the girls are still fast asleep. Wiruna Lucky strikes a particularly amusing pose. I place the food and washers on the rack and head off to investigate which sleeping koala is Bonny Fire. I'm told that she has pink on her nose and is smaller than Birthday Girl. Bonny slowly comes to -- all these girls are seasoned feeders and know what's coming. There's no swiping or eeping to worry about.

Bonny Fire
Bonny Fire
From koalawrangler's gallery.
I stand on the highest part of the turf-green platform where I can reach her best and proceed to squirt the syringe into her mouth. It's strangely intimate being that close to her furry face, watching her little front teeth protrude from time to time. You can concentrate on the details of the animal; the brown eyes, the pink speckles on a black nose; the deformity in the claws from the fire she was rescued from. In my mind's eye I alway saw koala's faces as being flat but their jaw actually protrudes outwards in a prominent fashion. Maybe it's the squat lozenge-shaped nose that gives their faces the illusion of flatness.

Bonny Fire, as her name suggests was rescued from a bush fire. With the adult koalas, the males and females are kept separate except that one of the male patients made a covert visit into yard 9 and knocked Bonny up. The resulting bairn was called Bonny Ash, a local competition being carried out to pick a name that would suit this renegade newcomer. She has since been released back into the wild but is frequently adopted in the adopt-a-wild-koala program.

Jules the tour guide is holding court over near yard 9A where the joeys Ocean Kim and Links VTR are now living. They are more of a drawcard than the older girls, especially since dear Cloud has passed away. Birthday Girl is buried deep in her leaf but starts to reach for me once she sees I have food. She feeds through the fork of her gunyah which is useful since it prevents her from clawing me as she clutches for more formula. I'm just getting to the last syringe-ful as Jules realises there's a feed he could be showcasing. I carry on watering her leaf and then head back to the dayroom.

Ros and Joyce are in with Oxley Westi, the tiny koala with the bulging eyes. Both her eyes must have ointment smeared in them morning and night. According to the board, her eyes are listed as "exopthalmous", but this is merely a high-falutin' description, not a diagnosis. They don't know what causes it. I peer into the unit and both Joyce and Ros are on the floor with little Westi, treating her eyes.

I go off and fill a watering can with water and grab a spray bottle so that Ros can wet the leaf and refill the pots quickly and get out of there. The less disruption to the already strung-out koala, the better. When they're done, Joyce emerges with a trickle of blood running down her calf, courtesy of Ms Westi.

Tractive Golfer
Tractive Golfer
From koalawrangler's gallery.
Tractive Golfer, the long-term incumbent of yard 10, is actually down from his tree so Ros heads off to feed him. Ellenborough Kelly and Macquarie Peter (with whom I have a history) both need feeding so I check with Joyce that it's okay to head off there with their pots of formula.

Jules is delighted that the group will get a front-row seat at Peter's feeding. His yard fronts on to the walking path that the tourists tramp along. He's sitting facing forwrd with his slightly rounded belly and huge furry testicles protruding for all to see. Jules has a running joke about how you can tell whether a koala is male of female. Their ears are tagged: left for males; right for females -- because females are "always right". Boom boom. Of course, you can tell quite clearly that this one is a male; his manly accoutrements are hanging out for all to see.

Meanwhile, I'm trying to feed Peter who's not in any hurry to move into a better position for me to do so. I don't want to do it behind the fork as this will obscure the tourists' view. The more they see, the more they are likely to donate money and adopt, which is what keeps the hospital afloat. I finally work out a way of ducking under the fork and feeding him from the front so as not to affect people's photo opportunities. Peter doesn't make it easy as he pauses between syringes to take mouthfuls of leaf. An American voice remarks that he must like salad with his meal.

Ros is feeding Ellenborough Nancy and finishes watering her, Golfer and Links Lorna. We head back to the staff-room and start on ICU. Joyce is mixing up a clear formula for the two new koalas, Tasman Rose and Sandfly Jye. We're not sure what's wrong with them yet as they were only brought in this morning. I've never fed this clear liquid before and can't imagine that it's as enticing as the white milk-like supplement the others get. Joyce says all we can do is try to feed them and see how they go.

I try Sandfly Jye, the male, first. I'm wary of his striking out, so I take it easy, by dragging up a small stool, but not getting too 'in his face'. He lets me come near but grunts when I put the syringe near his mouth and takes off into the leaf for sanctuary. I don't want to push it and risk a swiping. I just water his leaf and leave.

Tasman Rose
Tasman Rose
From koalawrangler's gallery.
I'm not optimistic of having any better success with Tasman Rose next door, but give it a go. She's a placid little girl and I speak gently to her as I put the syringe to her mouth. She's not exactly against the idea, but doesn't take the tip of the syringe in. She does however make a little lapping noise that suggests she's ingesting some of the liquid that comes near her mouth. I ask Joyce what to do and she says it's better to get some in than none. I spend ten minutes gradually squirting the liquid at Rose's mouth; 95% ends up on the ground or on the koala, while 5% makes it into her mouth. I paper over the slops on the floor.

I go and collect the money boxes scattered around the yards so that the lady in the shop can count up today's takings and head home. Then I start washing up the pots in washing up liquid -- well koalas first, followed by sick, before rinsing them and filling each with weak antibacterial disinfectant.

We're about done when the phone rings. It's a lady in Sapphire Drive, Emerald Downs, who has just seen the neighbour's dog chase a koala across the yard. The koala has taken off up a palm tree in the caller's yard. She thinks it may be a joey since it is small. It's apparent that I've got a koala situation on the phone. I look about frantically for a pen and paper as the lady gives me her details. I find the rescue list; there's one in the shop. Barb's name is at the top and I give her a call.

In hindsight, I realise that I should have offered to go with Barb since you really need two people for a rescue. But who knows, maybe the koala didn't need to be rescued. Still, at the very least, it would need to be relocated to a safe location where it can't get attacked by dogs. I don't know what I would do if our dog ever did anything to a koala.

Click here to view more of today's koala hospital photos.

Saturday 10 February 2007

Emma's koala gallery

Emma, another volunteer from the hospital has a Flickr account showcasing her love of koalas. She's clearly obsessed with the same koalas as me -- Henry and Links.

Click here to view more of Emma's koala hospital photos.

Friday 9 February 2007

Blinky Pinkie

I end up on my hands and knees, rolling up the newspaper and picking up poop individually with my fingers. Unbelievably I find another THREE ticks in the corner, rolling around fit to burst.

Wiruna Lucky
From koalawrangler's gallery.
Being in Sydney earlier this week has stripped me of my newfound 'green' veneer, so I've been craving a good dose of koala. I've also decided that the scent of fresh eucalyptus, especially the concentrated gamier odour that the ICU emits is one of my favourite smells.

There was a new face in the day-room today -- Damien, one of the uni vets, who must have been away on holidays. He looks about my age. I recognise him from the hospital home page. His blurb says he has completed a doctorate in koala disease.

I'm assigned to work with Anne again today. We've got the aviaries (which Anne comically calls "ovaries") and yard 6, where the joeys are (as apposed to where the wild things are). The joeys are more spread about the yards these days -- Ocean Kim is now sharing yard 9A (the enclosed yard within yard 9) with Links VTR, and Burraneer Henry has been moved to his own yard -- yard 4.

Judy tells me that she's laid out last night's leftover leaf on a rack outside the leaf-shed. It's to be used as today's recycle. Anne and I head off to yard 6. Barb calls from the adjacent yard 9; she is feeding one of the girls. She asks Anne if she'll come in and help with feeding. There are a few tourists about and they are generally more likely to participate in the adopt-a-wild-koala scheme if they see activity from the koalas. Anne used to be a guide so she likes to re-enter the limelight occasionally.

I carry on raking around the joey yard. They are nowhere in sight as usual. We're just the hired help who come in to sweep a bit and restock their food while they swan around the treetops like complacent little monkeys...whom we worship nonetheless.

Barb calls me over so I can feed Wiruna Lucky. She's a big old girl with midriff bulge. As she's feeding, I study her claws which seem to be missing in places. She also lolls her head about as though she's blind, although I'm not sure if that's her affliction. Meanwhile, Barb is telling the tourists about the resident koalas. Apparently, the NSW Parks & Wildlife only permit the hospital to treat and release koalas; they were given special permission to keep some of the koalas permanently. If they're not well enough to be released, they are generally euthanased. It's against the law to keep native animals. She talks about Ocean Therese whom I remember some of the handlers joking about with Cheyne, saying she can never be released. Technically she's got to be, but Barb thinks Therese might be suffering from some sort of brain injury which could influence that outcome.

I return to the joeys and wash out their pots and discard the leaf. Anne already replaced the recycled pot with leftover leaf from the leaf shed. As I finish raking, I find not one but two plump ticks on the ground among the koala droppings. They are similar in size and shape and colour to poo, except that ticks have a glossier purple sheen to them, while poop is more matte. After gorging themselves on koala blood they drop off and wind up lying on their backs like upturned turtles. They are so distended with blood that their legs poke out at odd angles like whiskers. I have the uneviable opportunity of studying them closely in my palm before depositing them in individual phials and killing them with a squirt of ethanol.

The leaf gatherer is nowhere to be seen so we have to break the koala kommandment of starting a new yard before the first is finished. Anne says Oxley Jo has been acting up so she allocates me Ellenborough Nancy. Oh no! I may be projecting but I feel like Nancy really doesn't like me, whereas Oxley Jo is a placid little lamb. Jo's still not eating much nor producing much poop, which bothers me some. Can they force-feed a koala?

Perhaps it's the effect of Nancy's sore eye making her a look a little meaner than the rest, but I'm sure she's going to take a swing at me the first chance she gets. Nancy's aviary is not very wide so it's difficult to give her the wide berth she needs so as not to get too uppity. She's down the left end so I quickly cut free the towel from the right side, all the while watching my back, and replace it with a fresh towel. I decide to use my neverfail method of luring her towards the clean towel with fresh leaf. I cut up a batch from last night's leftovers. Anne says I need to use fresh but I explain my tactic. It works well as I remove the pot from the end I want her to vacate and she moves towards the newly wetted leaf. It's not fresh but it's better than nothing. I realise the other towel is way too long so I head off to the shed for a smaller one. I find a swollen tick near the door and write this one up in the day-room. As I return, I see that Nancy has had her fill of leaf and is returning to the leafless end that I'm yet to re-towel. Gadzooks, my best-laid plans, foiled! I should have laid the longer towel while I had the chance. Note to self...

Meanwhile, Damien is just approaching her aviary to give Nancy some medication. He graciously offers to move Nancy out of the way while I finish tying the new towel. You can tell he's a koala expert by the way that he gently pats her rump to move her along without complaint. Perhaps it's to do with showing your fear. And because I'm rushing to get it done, the string (which is cheap jute) is getting all knotted and all the while he's waiting with a needle in one hand and a koala's butt in the other.

Finally, that part's done and I can get back to cleaning the floor of the unit. It's hard to wield a broom in such a small space and I don't want to disturb her. I end up on my hands and knees, rolling up the newspaper and picking up poop individually with my fingers. Unbelievably I find another THREE ticks in the corner, rolling around fit to burst. Another trip to the day-room. At this rate, Anne has almost finished both Oxley Jo and Oceanview Terry -- a newcomer.

Finally the leaf is done and I can prepare fresh leaf for Nancy. Anne says she'll do the joeys' leaf; I can go and see what's left to be done in ICU.

Peter says that ICU has mostly been done. The first two units need fresh leaf. I go off to prepare it. For some reason they've decided to limit the units to two pots of fresh leaf and no recycled. Probably for space reasons. It makes it harder to manoeuvre the koalas about, to lure them here and there with new leaf. The first unit contains a newcomer -- Oxley Westi. She's a small koala with bulbous eyes. I feel so sorry for her; her eyes look so uncomfortable. And I have to move her old leaf which means virtually pulling it from her. Outside on her whiteboard it says "pinkie in pouch".

Judy is helping Damien in the treatment room with a bagged koala. I ask who they're working on. Damien says "Tezza". I ask Judy about the pinkie and she clarifies that this means she has an unfurred joey in her pouch. Wow! I wonder if that means she'll stay in the hospital until the joey emerges. I fill up a pot of leaf and carry it awkwardly into the ICU. Cheyne is walking through the corridor and remarks that I look like I'm carrying a wedding bouquet up the aisle. "It's just as I imagine it too", I respond.

Warrego Martin
Warrego Martin
From koalawrangler's gallery.
To finish the last units we all muck in. Barb is stripping the towels from Warrego Martin's gunyah as I muck out his floor. No lack of poop here. At morning tea, Geoff talks about a fundraising cruise that's coming up. He asks Cheyne about "koala superannuation" -- it's their term for the kind of financial forecasting they're doing for koalas' welfare in the future; not spending everything now, but planning for the koalas in thirty years' time.

Barb retreats to collect a joey she's caring for at home, Siren Gem as Cheyne says they need to give him a jab with some medication. Anne tells us (me and Carole from the shop) about the joey's background. Some people found it and kept it for a few days. In a milk-crate. It was getting weaker so they brought the little joey in after two days. It was quite dehydrated and lacking in energy. It was called Gemma until they determined it was a boy, so now he's "Gem". Barb has been caring for him for a a week or so and he's picked up quite a bit.

When she arrives back at the hospital she carries him in the usual washing basket configuration. Barb leaves the basket on the treatment room floor while Damien sets up a drip device for the next patient. Barb loosens the bicycle clasps on the basket so that the top basket is just sitting loose. I stand in the doorway, waiting till they bring him out.

He's obviously gotten more energy because he manages to poke his head out between the gap in the two baskets, trying to make his escape. I rush forward. Damien says "just push on his forehead" -- I remember Cheyne showing us this technique: it makes them retreat. Barb returns and holds Gem on the treatment table while he gets his jab. It's awful watching the poor little thing flinch as the needle goes in. He tries to turn and climb back into his foster Mum's arms.

Afterwards, Barb pops him back in his basket and gives him a tender bunch of new leaf to munch on. He tucks in; the doctor visit is all but forgotten.

Click here to view more of today's koala hospital photos.

Friday 2 February 2007

Joeyfest: Links VTR & Ocean Kim

I murmur my little cajoling words -- "possum", "sausage", "precious pie" -- to persuade Links VTR that I'm not trying to blast him off the gunyah with a hose.

Ocean Kim & Barb
From koalawrangler's gallery.
Back on the Friday shift, I walk into the day-room and greet Peter. Barb strolls in casually, a joey clinging to her shoulder like a human baby. It's Ocean Kim who's been having tick trouble lately and has been doing a shift in ICU. You can tell Barb has mothered a few joeys -- the way she walks about the room with Kim cradled comfortably in her arms testifies to years of koala-whispering. She's one of the handlers who does joey home-care. A dirty job but someone's got to do it.

Barb is gently berating Kim for naughtily trying to climb up onto her roof. There's been some changes. Burraneer Henry has moved in with the other joey, Links VTR, in yard 4. Earlier, Ocean Kim had been transferred from ICU to Burraneer Henry's old spot, yard 1A, the joey showcase; but Barb has just found her scaling the tarp and there are fears she might try to escape. She's (supposedly) one of the wild joeys and is used to hanging out in the high trees, regally surveying her audience whenever one gathers beneath her.

Barb sits at the dayroom table and feeds Kim with a syringe. She jokes to Cheyne that she should really be paddling Kim's bottom for being such a naughty koala, but instead she's apparently rewarding such behaviour with a feed of formula. (By the way, I'm certain Barb would no sooner paddle a joey's bottom than cut her own arm off.)

I decide that I could stand by and gush at little Kim all day, but I really should begin my duties. I'm assigned all the joeys today. No feeding unfortunately, but I still get to see them at close-range. Anne says, "so, you've got all the orphans today?". Links is now sharing with Henry, who is barely visible at the top of the yard's gum tree. Barb has already replaced Links' recycled leaf with a bunch of Nicholli -- she knows their favourite leaf, just a like a mother would.

I haven't really done a yard before on my own, other than the joeys. I'm usually in the aviaries or ICU. I rake around the perimeter and refresh Links' water bowl. Barb emerges still cuddling little Ocean Kim. She's decided that Kim, Links and Henry can share this yard for the time being. Links is munching on the new nichollii leaf as Barb deposits Kim onto the gunyah. Links reaches his paw out and touches Kim as she climbs aboard. They then move together and kiss noses as we stand around gushing at this precious display. They start to share the leaf until Kim wanders off to the end of the gunyah that connects with the yard's tree. Then she's gone -- bounding up to the highest branches. The tree is forked at the top -- Henry is ensconced on the right fork and Kim on the other.


Ocean Kim joins Links VTR
From koalawrangler's gallery.
Anne is making ready the yard nextdoor for O'Briens Fiona, otherwise known as Fiona Houdini, the wiley escape artist. She's moving Wonga Innes to the yard closest to the exit -- they didn't want to put Fiona there since naturally she will be looking for any way to escape outside the yards. This way, if she does get out, it will be into another yard. Anne tells me a little about Links VTR's background. He used to be in yard 6 with the other joeys, but he fell from a tree during a storm and hurt his nose. Links' nose is disfigured after his tree-freefall. Apparently Cheyne used to have to mop his little schnoz every day. It now sports an indentation since it's partly hollow. Links VTR isn't interested in climbing since his accident. It was hoped that the other joey might set a good example for Linksy, but he remains on the gunyah, even climbing down to just above the ground where he can keep a better eye on me.


Links VTR
From koalawrangler's gallery.
I do recall Links being much friskier when Anna was here though. I was servicing Kempsey Carolina's yard next door and kept seeing Links darting up the beam that connects his gunyah to the tree. He'd scramble up the beam and then onto the tree only to shimmy down to the ground again. The handlers put soft bags at the bottom of the tree to break his fall should he take another tumble. I remember watching him scale his way to the ground only to sit there for a while, as though he wasn't sure what to do next.


Leaf bundles
From koalawrangler's gallery.
The leaf man is still sorting the leaf so I check with Anne if it's okay to start on the joeys (since one of the koala kommandments is to finish one yard before proceeding to the next). There is a huge kookaburra in the yard; I've seen them before in yard 6, so there must be something there they like to eat (hopefully not koala). There are no joeys to be seen -- they must be up high. They have four pots of leaf for the three of them. I do a good rake around their yard -- you're not supposed to do more than a rake's-width perimeter, but there is koala poop everywhere so I reckon a more thorough sweep can't hurt just this once. I empty the dried leaf and poop in a bucket and look in on Ellenborough Nancy (the extra-wild koala from yesterday who swiped at me). She looks so sad with her weepy left eye. She's much quieter today though, perhaps the towels Peter hung up yesterday have calmed her.

I start preparing the joeys' leaf -- like growing children, they make short work of their leaf each day, and leave their leftovers in a messy state. The branches are all broken and bent like they've been trampled. I separate their new bundle into three and refill the recycled pot with leaf from yesterday. Links must be famished because he leans towards me as I bring the new leaf in. He gets stuck into it straight away, which makes it a little hard to hose the leaf down without wetting him as well. Apparently, koalas don't like getting wet very much. I murmur my little cajoling words -- "possum", "sausage", "precious pie" -- to persuade Links that I'm not trying to blast him off the gunyah with a hose. Barb has also put aside a special branch of Nicholli for Links, Henry and Kim. Their pots are almost bursting so I share a bit of their leaf with the other joeys.

With all the orphans attended to, I check with Barb what needs doing next. I had seen Jo leaving the aviaries with a bagged koala earlier and I have half a mind to suggest that I work on the aviaries, especially if one is in the treatment room; it's far easier to clean a koala's aviary when they're not in residence. It's so crowded in there with human/leaf/koala all competing for space. But I don't, since I prefer working in ICU anyway and Barb says I can continue in there. There are a bunch of new koalas -- Belleview Bill and Ocean Roy. The vets had to treat Condon Geoff, the climber from yesterday, but they left him in the transporting box while his unit is being cleaned by Judy -- he's too much of a flight risk!

I start on Warrego Martin's unit, where I can see my own handiwork from yesterday. He's docile and welcoming as ever. I go off to prepare his leaf first so that I can make a presto-chango swap when it comes time to do the towels. My plan works like a charm again -- remove leaf at end without koala and replace towel there; replenish that end with new leaf to coax koala away from dirty towel end and so focus on that end. All the while, Martin is still peeing and pooping so it's a good thing that I leave the clearing of the newpaper until last. There is a tonne of poop in his unit so he's obviously eating a lot; I can hear him chomping on his leaf. It's a such a satisfying sound hearing an animal 'happy' (if that's not projecting too much). Well, helping to meet its basic needs anyway.

After Martin, I start to empty the old leaf into the leaf skip. As you can imagine, there is a lot of leaf to be disposed of in a given day. Every day. Old leaf is first chucked on the ground (as you are working to complete a yard), then it is turfed into a green wheelie bin with the front cut out of it. This is then wheeled to the leaf skip and said leaf hurled into it. The leaf gatherer empties the skip after his leaf collection each morning. Sometimes this means there are two wheelie-bins full of leaf sitting where the skip used to be as well as piles and piles of loose leaf lying where they've been chucked (in the absence of the skip).

Today, the skip's newly emptied and I'm hurling bundles of old leaf into the top of it and thinking how much I used to hate gardening as a kid. Ivy day was the worst. The house I grew up in was literally choked in heavy ivy; the kind with white leaves with green splotches. It grew on the patio railings that surrounded the entire house. Once a year or so, Dad would crank up the chainsaw and hack the ivy back to the bare roots and we kids were enlisted as labour. This consisted of emptying the patio of its towering piles of leaf and branches and depositing the piles into green garbage bags. I remember telling my brother one year that I had a cold so I couldn't bend over to pick up the leaf since it would make my nose run. I've been thinking obout that ivy-clearing today and how much that felt like hollow work; whereas, schlepping the old koala leaf is something I approach with vigour. I find myself returning to this theme often: some activity that I usually dislike is transformed into earthy, soulful work when it is being done for the good of the koalas. Either that or I've just grown up a bit.

I start to help Barb hang out the towels that have just come out of the washing machine, but she orders me inside to have a cup of tea. There may be koalas to attend to but the tea-break is sacrosanct. Carol, who looks after fundraising is laying out mugs as Barb cuts up a custard-filled tea cake. I tell her I may be able to get a mobile phone donated to us that I thought we could auction off at the upcoming open-day in April. She's thrilled by the idea. Cheyne is also going to collect poop in a jar and count the number of "nuggets" (Geoff's term). People can then pay to guess how many bits of koala poop are in the poop jar.

Jo starts to talk about some of the patients. That little lamb Oxley Jo isn't eating her leaf. No! I don't know what that will mean. I ask Jo about her research work. She is doing research on koala disease. I want to ask her if they use the same drugs to treat koala Chlamydia as is used on humans, but the conversation turns to Cloud and the article that appeared on her in the Port Macquarie News on Wednesday. Jules is in and he tells us that Cloud also has an obituary in today's paper.

I go out to check on how O'Briens Fiona is settling in. She's not on her gunyah or anywhere else to be seen. Finally I see her in the corner of her yard. She's snuffling about on the ground, then stands on her hind legs against the fence. She's probably trying to work out how to escape. Fiona Houdini, the master, in action.

Anne asks me to clear up Bonny Jude's yard. He's been released today so the yard needs to be fully emptied of leaf etc. I scrub the pots and turn them upside down in their holders to indicate the yard is ready for re-use. I notice Judy carrying a bagged koala towards the aviaries. I tell her I'll help by opening the cage door. It's eepy Links Lorna. Both her wrists are bandaged where they've taken blood. Fortunately, there are canulas in to make drawing the blood they need for analysis less traumatic. It's part of the research to gauge how much of the drug is making it into their bloodstreams. I remember Warrego Martin's wrists were like that when I first met him.

I stop at Oxley Jo's aviary and tell her I want her to start eating her leaf. Perhaps we're just not giving her the variety she likes? Koalas definitely have their favourite kinds; I notice that when I'm discarding the already-munched on leaf taht it is usually the same kind. They leave the other varieties that they're less keen on. Oxley Jo looks at me intently like she half expects me to throw her in a bag. Like I'd do that :)

Click here to view more of today's koala hospital photos.