Foxie lady

Jo asks us who we think should be moved into Lorna's old yard from the inside units or the aviaries. It's like trying to decide who should be upgraded from a standard room to a suite.

Ocean Therese
From koalawrangler's gallery.

I couldn't keep my eyes open last night after the action-packed koala hospital open day. Despite hitting the sack at 8.30pm, I still managed to oversleep this morning. I've given Pete a call to let him know I'll be a bit late.

Emma's in yard 3 when I arrive. Things aren't quite back to normal in the dayroom yet. There're umbrellas and display boards stacked near the tables that had been scattered around the hospital forecourt the day before. The koalas are all where they should be -- and that's the main thing! My name's not on the board against a particular yard or unit. John's got the aviaries as usual. Jim's out in the leaf skip; not by it, in it. He's trying to stamp down the overflowing leaf, making heavy footsteps in a circular path around the skip. I shout out, "they're not grapes you know". This is as witty as I get at 8.15am on a Sunday.

Tracy's in yard 9 feeding Birthday Girl. Peter and Chris are contemplating Bonny Fire. I greet Pete with the question, "so what's my punishment?" (for being late). I'm allocated to ICU (no punishment at all). I ask him if it's okay to help Jim out first in yard 10 before starting on ICU together. Chris calls me over to look at Bonny's foot. They reckon she's got a tick between her toes. Pete's gone to find some tweezers. Bonny's not pleased with the close attention we've been paying her and starts to scoot up the pole connecting her gunyah to a nearby tree. Chris shows he's been learning some koala lore by gently pushing on her forehead to keep her in place while we both have a closer look. I reckon it's got to be a tick too.

I grab some of the good orange leaf cutters and head into yard 10. Jim's already raked Golfer's area and made up his recycle pot. I start on Ocean Therese. She's down from her tree and wrapped around a fork on her gunyah. She leans towards me as I enter, nosing the air. I can't feed her or touch her. She's being dehumanised for her impending transfer; although this is a contradiction in terms for Therese who's probably even more human-friendly than Kempsey Carolina (which is saying something). Compared to the other wild koalas we get at the hospital, she's like a living Gonzo or Fozzie Bear, more fuzzy animated creature than animal. They say she might have incurred brain damage from her car accident last year, which might account for her gentle docility.

She climbs down from her gunyah and approaches me. I'm not worried she'll climb me like Sandfly Jye might try to do. It feels like she must want to be near, but, as Cheyne always says, it's more likely that to Therese I'm just a walking purveyor of leaf or formula. So I try not to touch her, which is almost impossible as she's virtually walking into me. Then she sits back on her haunches, not pushy like O'Briens Fiona used to be. She just lets me do what I need to, raking up her poo and clearing one pot of leaf.

A lot of poop and dried leaves appear to have gathered near the edges of her yard. I start to arrange it into a few smaller piles. As I sweep one up into the dustpan, I I catch a glint of aubergine among the poo pellets. Is it a tick? I shake the pan so as to sort through the oval objects better, momentarily feeling like I'm panning for gold -- trying to find that glossy tick among the dull droppings. No luck, it all goes into the poo strainer near the hospital's back entrance.


Ocean Roy
From koalawrangler's gallery.
As Jim starts on Ocean Roy, he asks me what happened to Links Lorna. It's nice to be able to say she's been released. Jim confesses he's a little sad; she was a bit of a favourite for him. I know just what he means. You develop feelings of fondness for these animals even if those feelings are never reciprocated. The more you're with them, the more you become aware of their different behaviours and vulnerabilities that we then anthropomorphise into "personalities". Then it's not just any koala that's freed, it's a specific koala that you cherish particular memories of. We wranglers are not veterinary experts; we're people with pets and kids and (usually) non-medical day-jobs. So we're non-scientific about our responses to being around koalas so regularly. I can't work this closely with particular animals for weeks on end without feeling a poignant sense of loss when they're gone. Lorna will always be "Eepy" to me, because of her characteristic you're getting to close warning noise which sounded just like eep.

Jim's finishing Oceanview Terry's yard so I start on Sandfly Jye's. Jye immediately jumps down from his perch and races towards me, something he's becoming known for. I'm more familiar with his antics now so I don't even crouch down. He stands beside me as I rake, until suddenly I feel his claws on my lower leg. Hmmm. Best not stick around and see what happens next. Peter brings in the food for Golfer and Jye. So Jye's probably eager to be fed. I try to feed him while he's on the ground, but he's grabby so it's not working. I leave the unit and wait until he's bored with roaming and regains his high fork. He usually feeds best (in my experience) when he's above you; even on the gunyah beam he tends to grab, which makes feeding a bit hazardous. Up on his perch, he takes the food complacently, poking his pink tongue out rhythmically; it's the same colour as his flared pink nostrils. Jim says Jye also prefers to feed from his left-hand side and he's right. Probably cos most of the wranglers would be right-handed.

Morrish Steven
From brokenpuzzle's gallery.

Jye's more subdued now so I can finish raking his yard. Jim's finished Ocean Roy and Links Lorna's unit is empty since her release, so we've done all we can until the leaf arrives. We head in to ICU. I start Lake Private, Jim is in with Innes Tony, Chris is next door with Anna Bay Miles, Ian's in with Calwalla Bill and Emma is trying to fend off Morrish Steven, in vain. Steven is known for being "grabby". He's not striking out, he just likes to reach out for you when you're near. Not sure what he wants exactly; it's probably just his way of expressing that he'd like some fresh leaf, please! Today he's even scampering around the ground and, according to Emma, biting at her knees.

Luckily Lake Private is quite placid. He's a wet-bottom so he gets a new towel, but the hardest thing is persuading him to move down to the fresh-towel end of the gunyah. He does so lingeringly and in reverse. When the leaf arrives I see that Chris has brought in Melaleuca and there's a bundle with a flourishing bunch of blossoms. I mention this to Chris, knowing how much Anna Bay Miles likes them. Miles is doing much better now; I recall Robyn saying that they didn't think he would make it. Perhaps it's the melaleuca! I wonder if Anna Bay Sooty loves it as well?

I see Barb in the treatment room and ask her how things turned out with Nulla Sam, the one found curled up on the ground. When I saw him yesterday, he was lying, unmoving, in his basket. His eyes were flickering open and closed; he really looked like he wouldn't last the night. Sam's lymph glands were also dramatically swollen. Barb had called the vet in who elected to put him to sleep. I'm pleased to hear that they were able to end his pain.

Next I start on Hindman Foxie. I want to do her unit all in one go since she is carrying a joey and is highly stressed. With the leaf here, I hope to restock her leaf to distract her while I finish cleaning the rest of her unit. Her towel is very clean so I check with Peter whether it's worth changing it. Changing is the more distressing part of the cleaning process since the animal has to be encouraged to move at some point, although we work around the animal as much as possible. Peter looks at the whiteboard and decrees that since she's not a wet-bottom, it's okay to leave it. Perhaps avoiding the stress of a towel change will offset whatever benefit is gained by a clean towel?

Foxie still keeps me in sight the whole time, as much as she can with one blind eye. I've noticed this to be a particular trait of koalas with vision in only one eye: Links Lorna and Ellenborough Nancy. Being partially blind must make them even more sensitive to potential danger.

I try to give her flourishing bunches she can hide in. When she moves down the leafy end, I can see her bulging pouch in all its glory. It's uplifting to see evidence of the koala population replenishing itself, despite everything that is working to deplete it (in particular, chlamydia and urbanisation).

Back in yard 10, Jye is sitting in one corner of his yard in an almost meditative pose. Jo is talking to Peter next door in Links Lorna's old yard. She pops in and expertly lifts him back onto his gunyah, where he returns to his slumber and doesn't move for the rest of the afternoon. Jo asks us who we think should be moved into Lorna's old yard from the inside units or the aviaries. Yard 10 is furthest from the treatment room so it can't be a koala who still needs close monitoring such as Bellevue Bill or Innes Tony. Condon Geoff is soon to be released so he may as well stay in the aviaries. Morrish Steven is too naughty (see above), and beside, he hasn't been here that long. It's like trying to decide who should be upgraded from a standard room to a suite.

Another contender is Ellenborough Nancy. I think she's the perfect choice. As one of the wildest koalas, it would be wonderful to graduate her to a yard that is fully outside. The umbrella will have to go though, in case she tries to use it to escape. This gets Jim and I to thinking. The koalas with only two leaf pots and no umbrella need a third recycle pot simply to provide more shelter for them. It's important to a koala's koalaness to have a spray of leafy branches to nest under. Jye and Oxley Jo both have a third pot with towering branches, but Oceanview Terry, Ocean Roy and Lorna's vacant yard (sans umbrella) do not.


Oceanview Terry wonders what Jim and Peter are up to down there
From koalawrangler's gallery.
Jim dons his Bob the Builder cap and retrieves some wide blue tape from his car. Peter tracks down some wire and some new leaf pots. I source the red tape that demarcates the recycle pots. Jim sets about tightening the existing wire on the gunyahs. Lookout Harry takes umbrage at this and gives Jim a swipe; fortunately, he's not hurt. Terry and Roy get new pots taped in place. There are no metal pot brackets so this will have to do. It means that the pots can't be taken down for a proper scrubbing, but they're designed for sheltering-leaf not eating-leaf.

Pete I grab some leftover leaf from the leaf shed and start to fashion new shelters for Terry and Roy. Terry actually treats his new bunch like it's a tree trunk and wraps himself around it, pinned in at the back with a tree fork. It really doesn't look comfortable, but there's still the higher fork climb up to if he wishes.

After my shift, D____'s parents come in to the hospital and I give them a guided tour around the yards. Ocean Kim delights us by clambering down from her leafy perch and tucking into the leaf there. Before we leave, D____'s folks adopt a koala, little Links VTR.

On my way home, I drive down Koala Street and past O'Briens Road. It gives me pause, as I remember funny little O'Briens Fiona, now fattening up in the heavenly treetops.

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

FiFi Houdini's final escape

Barb pops her head in the yard and tells me not to start on Links Lorna's yard. Today's the day she's being released. You go, girl!

Links Lorna
From koalawrangler's gallery.

It's good to be back in the koala saddle again, after missing my usual Thursday shift yesterday. Being Good Friday, we're down a few vollies; plus there's a few rescues and releases to take away the human resources from the usual servicing of the yard. Barb reckons it's shaping up to be one of those fridays. The kind where you plan to finish at 10, and then you're there admitting new koalas until lunchtime.

Judy is telling Mary about the latest on Walcha Barbie. She's developed a problem ingesting her leaf. She's hungry but not able to keep the food down. They're going to start pulverising her leaf so that she can eat. Judy's talking about Barbie like she's right here in the room. It's then I realise that she is -- she's basketed on the dayroom table, quiet as a mouse.

Oxley Jo
From koalawrangler's gallery.

I'm in yard 10 today with Ashley, although he's likely to be called away on a rescue. First off, I feed Tractive Golfer, who's on his gunyah and snuggled into yesterday's leaf. Jo starts making her rounds in yard 10, checking on the koalas' progress. I ask her about little Oxley Jo, the princess of yard 10, since it looks to me like her wet bottom has 'dried up' a little. Jo says she's spent a little longer on the trials than usual. She wasn't responding initially, but has just turned a corner, delivering a negative result for Chlamydia on the test they do. Jo attempted to explain the test to me, which would give CSI a run for its money. Something to do with gel and chain reactions. I cross my fingers for her that her treatment continues to be a success; she's such a darling.

Jo also tells me something that hadn't occurred to me: the koala admissions quieten down in the winter months. It's out of mating season so they're not taking the same risks roaming from place to place.

Tractive Golfer
From koalawrangler's gallery.

I start to sort out Tractive Golfer's leaf and then Ocean Therese. Golfer makes it easy for me, climbing up a nearby tree leaving his pots free to change. Therese reaches out to me in case I have formula. She's still slated for relocation to a wildlife sanctuary, but apparently the transfer requires both Department of Agriculture and NSW Parks & Wildlife approval. Suits me fine; I'll be sad to see her go. She's such a gentle girl. I give her head a little stroke before I go. Barb pops her head in the yard and tells me not to start on Links Lorna's yard. Today's the day she's being released. You go, girl!

Speaking of removals, I see that Warrego Martin is gone from his usual yard. I knew he was in the post-treatment monitoring phase, but it's still a surprise to see he's been released. Like I expect a phone call advising he's to be released today: did I want to come in to the hospital and see him off? Perhaps a cake and streamers? :) Warrego Martin was one of the koalas I first encountered in ICU. He's come through his system of treatment and is well enough to re-enter the koala community as a healthy male. You can see his photostream here.

I've taken some of yesterday's leftover leaf from outside the leaf shed to use as shelter for Oxley Jo's and Sandfly Jye's recycle pots. There's some good sweeping nicholii to give them some added shade. Some visitors are snapping away at Oxley Jo, but she turns my way when I enter her yard. The new leaf is here already, even before I've made a good go at the yards in yard 10. I quickly replenish Jo's leaf and in the process knock Sandfly Jye's feed pot off the leaf rack. I make up another pot in the dayroom.

Lookout Harry
From koalawrangler's gallery.

Ashley's back from the rescue and goes in to feed Jye. He then makes a good dent in the rest yard 10. Lookout Harry makes off up his tree as Ashley cleans. I notice that Harry still has a small leaf branch attached to his bottom; it looks like he's sprouted roots. Ashley whips through three or four of the yards, stripping out one pot of old leaf in each until he's called away for another rescue. The rescue from this morning was Orr Palmerston, a former patient, who needs to be re-released since he's okay.

Barb comes in with a bag and asks if I want to give bagging a go. It's been a while and I should keep up the practise. It's time to go...Linksy Lorna! Lorna is sitting peaceably on her gunyah; she's become much less of a stress-monkey. I remember when she was first in ICU and she would utter an eep! when anyone came near her. Barb tells me to pop the bag over her head and she starts eep again, but not in alarm; it sounds more like indignation. With Barb's help, she's in the bag and halfway to freedom. Yeah!

Oceanview Terry
From koalawrangler's gallery.

I carry on with the other yards. It's good to see Oceanview Terry out here. He was in the aviaries for quite a while; it's always great to see koalas graduate to that next level of freedom, a step closer to recovery and release. As they all do, he's perched as high as he can get on his gunyah, overseeing the yard. When I replenish his leaf, he doesn't even move position, preferring instead to stretch lazily towards whatever leaf he can get from his forked tower.

Judy comes in to see if I need any help. Following Ashley's system, I've been replacing the leaf but not sweeping the yards, leaving that till last. Judy graciously assents to being the poop-sweeper for Jo, Harry and Jye. She then gives Links Lorna's old unit a good clean, blasting the gunyah clean with water.

There's still a unit to do in ICU. Chris, Tracy and I chip in, then I go and fold some towels in the yard. Back in the dayroom, I flick through the dayroom to see when Warrego Martin was released. There's been a lot of movement with admissions and releases. Cathie Sampson, the older koala I've been tending to quite a bit lately, was put to rest. His prognosis was not positive, so I'm glad he's out of any discomfort now.

O'briens Fiona
From brokenpuzzle's gallery.

I'd seen earlier that O'Briens Fiona was no longer in the aviaries, which made me think that the cheeky FiFi Houdini must have been released. Sadly though, it turns out that she had put to sleep. She was an aged koala and had already demonstrated her difficulty surviving in the wild after release, judging by her weight loss upon her readmission. She had been sitting low in her tree and was underweight.

How I will miss her! She had such a vivid personality and a frisky way about her. She would bound up to us wranglers, eagerly demanding formula and foisting herself upon anyone who was a potential feeder. Yet this endearing facility was actually debilitating to her; her inexplicable hyperactivity was not merely unkoala-like, I'm guessing that it also contributed to her weight loss. Koalas are docile and sleep 20 hours a day for a reason. She was expending more energy than she could take in. I couldn't help but shed a tear when I read the news, but I'm glad that Fiona has made her final escape to that elusive gumtree in the sky where she's relaxed and feasting on leaf and formula!

Hindman Foxie
From koalawrangler's gallery.

There's another new koala from the Newcastle area, Anna Bay Sooty. She has notes on her, warning us handlers to give her a wide berth as she is particularly nervous and wary of human attention. She also has a pinkie in her pouch. A baby on that way. It makes things seem hopeful for the koalas.

Carol's in the treatment room feeding today's newcomer, Hindman Foxie. She was last in the hospital some six or seven years ago. Her left eye is completely clouded over; I'm not sure if this is permanent or curable. She's also got a joey in her pouch! Foxie's taking in the liquid Carol's feeding her. She's now in good hands.

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

Et tu, koalawrangler?

When I return to Sandfly Jye to continue fixing his leaf, he's on the ground. Nothing strange about that, except as soon as he sees me, he bolts straight towards me. What is it with stampeding koalas today? Could it be the Ides of March?

Sandfly Jye
From koalawrangler's gallery.

Amanda has assigned her and me to yard 10, along with John, the inside vollie who's now working at the koala-face. John and I head up to yard 10, feed pots in hand. Jo is just departing after doing her poop and leaf rounds. I explain to John the all-important rule always to wait until a uni researcher has given the all-clear in yard 10, ICU or the aviaries.

Tractive is up a tree, but Therese is down so John starts feeding her. There are a number of new residents in yard 10 since I was last here. Lookout Harry from the aviaries has moved into Macquarie Peter's old unit. Sandfly Jye, the piggy-nosed koala whose intensive care unit I mopped out last Thursday, is next to Warrego Martin. Ocean Roy is coming up from ICU so we're to set up a new unit on the other side of Jye. Tozer Tom has been moved back into ICU pending release.

I put out the collection boxes earlier, but wasn't sure that I'd put them in the best places. Amanda suggests one of the boxes from yard 9 should come up to yard 10. I head down there to retrieve it and see that the vollies there are feeding two of the koalas. One of them pleads with me to feed O'Briens Fiona. I go to ask where she is, when I see her on the ground at one of the girls' feet. The other koalas have been fed ahead of her and she's not pleased. I pick up her feed pot and she bounds towards me like a puppy...a puppy with huge, curved talon-like claws... I've fed her before, but only ever on a gunyah; this ground thing is new. She's so pushy. I crouch down and start gently syphoning the formula into her mouth, but she keeps flailing her arms towards me. It's not enough that the syringe is in her mouth; she's got to be holding onto something. It makes sense: when they eat, they are usually yanking leaf towards them, or at least holding onto a tree.

One flailing arm finally finds purchase in my bare forearm. She's not clawing to hurt me, so I'm not worried; he just wants me in her grip. To her, I'm basically a food supply. The claws don't draw blood; only pinch a little. The main trouble is that it's my feeding arm and I need to keep refilling the syringe. I get one of the ladies to hold the feed pot while I lean into Fiona to release her grip. The claws don't retract so the only way to pull free is not to pull, but to push gently towards them. I dash into the ICU, grab a towel and return. Fiona has ambled off and is harrassing another vollie. I draw her over with the syringe and, with a towel now covering my arm, continue to feed her. She is insistent about the food, like she's famished. Once it's gone, however, she bounds off up a tree and is gone. Eats, shoots and leaves.


Links Lorna
From koalawrangler's gallery.
I return to yard 10 with the collection box and make my apologies to Amanda. I head down to start on Links Lorna who looks remarkably relaxed, nestled in her leaf like a furry cabbage. She squints at me dozily, and doesn't even eep at me once. I rake around her yard, replace her water, and then empty the leaf at the other end of the gunyah. Next, I start on Sandfly Jye. He has such an unique little face with is always-flared nostrils framed in pink. He sits calmly on his gunyah without a peep.

Uni vet Jo arrives to do her medicating rounds. This time she's armed with a towel-covered stick to distract Oxley Jo. The stick ups the ante from simply having a madwoman yelling standing in front of Oxley Jo yelling "la la la"; Jo now needs instrumental distraction. When I return to Sandfly Jye to continue fixing his leaf, he's on the ground. Nothing strange about that, except as soon as he sees me, he bolts straight towards me. What is it with stampeding koalas today? First Fiona now Jye. Could it be the Ides of March? Snagglepus-like, I exit stage left, grabbing the rake off the ground just in time to put between Jye and myself. I'm certain that if I don't, he may climb me!

As I rush out of the yard with Jye in hot pursuit, Jo and Amanda are heading my way and explain Jye's behaviour. Jo has to give him some oral medication, so she decides it's best to bag him and plant him on the leaf rack to administer it. Amanda tells Jo that I'm trying to get experience handling the koalas. Jo waves the bag at me and I open the gate like it's a lion's den.

Jo gives me some pointers. You can't be tentative: you throw the bag over confidently and follow through. It's the quick and the dead in the fast-paced world of koala-bagging. Tentative is exactly how I feel. Jye is back on his gunyah now. Under Jo's guidance, I fling the bag over his head. The complication is that they're never just sitting there; they're firmly gripping a fork of wood. So this goes in the bag too and the koala is not about to let go. Instead, the koala is doing everything it can to nose its way out of the bag. Furthermore, with the bag over the koala, you lose track of which bit of the koala is where. Jo is giving me instructions like "grab his wrists" and most of it is going in one ear and out the other. Somehow, finally, it's done. One koala, bagged.

Ocean Roy arrives from ICU and is plonked in his new yard. He appears to like his umbrella. I carry on cleaning Jye's yard while he's otherwise occupied on the leaf rack. If a koala needs to be fed and they're not very used to feeding, it's easier to bag them and then only let the head of the koala out of the bag to feed. They tend to take the formula uncomplainingly in that position. Jo has to take another koala back to the treatment room and suggests I give the bagging a go. It's Lookout Harry this time. He's up high on his perch and have trouble with this one, although it all works in the end, with Jo's help. Jo says you get the hang of it after you've bagged 20 or so koalas...


Amanda & Sandfly Jye
From koalawrangler's gallery.
Even after his feed, Jye still won't stop chasing me around his yard. He starts running and then I start running, and then pretty soon we're doing laps around his gunyah. Amanda is next door and keeps saying "just crouch down, he won't do anything and he'll stop running". I find this hard to believe so she comes in and demonstrates. Sure enough, as soon as she crouches down, Jye comes to a halt and just sits and looks in front of her. It's just not what I expected to happen. Amanda looks so at ease, you can tell she's been doing this for three years.

Tractive Golfer
From koalawrangler's gallery.

Just as John is preparing Lookout Harry's leaf, I see Tractive Golfer backing down his tree. He shambles over towards us and predictably starts chewing on the leaf overhanging the leaf rack. He even climbs a leg of the leaf rack and noses around the under the leaf from there. Using a branch as a lure, I draw Golfer away towards his own leaf. It's a tried-and-true method I was Yasmin use so successfully in the past. He follows happily enough and settles onto his gunyah for a good feed.

The new leaf arrives and we start to replenish the pots. Links Lorna, formerly so calm, decides she's not giving up her leafy cushioning without a peep or two. I gently try to dislodge her from her spot and she eeps her disgruntlement. Amanda has given me a little more formula to feed Sandfly Jye. We reckon he might still be a bit hungry since some of his mixture spilt while he was being fed on the leaf rack. I also saw him sitting on the ground of his yard, which made me think Imight have tuckered him out. He's interested in the food for a while as I dribble it into his mouth; then he starts moving his head away.

Back in the day-room, I flick through the post-mortem reports. I see that it was necessary to euthanase poor Crestwood Dampier, the adult male that Barb was looking after. It was determined that his lack of movement in the hindquarters was actually paralysis. He wouldn't have stood a chance of surviving in the wild. It was more humane to send him to that great gumtree in the sky.

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

Wednesday

Cheyne is Chief Koalawrangler and you can tell by her confidence handling the koalas. She deftly plonks Tom on his gunyah; nonplussed, Tom tucks straight into his wet leaf and is immediately in the 'zone'.

Ocean Therese
From koalawrangler's gallery.

I've been asked to fill for in Maggie on the Wednesday afternoon shift for the next two weeks. There are a host of people in the day-room when I enter: Cathy, the teamleader; a lady called Joy; Anne from Fridays who's working in the shop; Danae, the French backpacker; and Geoff, who's doing today's 3pm walk-and-talk.

Without much to do before 3pm, I wander through the yard. Burraneer Henry is, as ever, up his tree; this time his arms are dangling down in a comical gesture. Back inside, Cathy is mixing up formula and starts to tell us some koala tales. For instance, wiley O'Briens Fiona escaped AGAIN this morning. She has been moved to yard 9 with the permanent girls, but was found up a tree outside her yard in the main grounds. At least she doesn't go far. Fortunately, they've identified how it is she escaped and so have foiled her plans for the future. There have been other movements too. Cathie Sampson has been moved to Fiona's old spot in yard 3 and Jupiter Cheryl has taken his unit in ICU.


Burraneer Henry
From koalawrangler's gallery.
Three koalas need to be fed in the front yards: Innes Wonga, Kempsey Carolina and Siren Gem, the joey. Gem is snuggled up a tree so I start feeding Kempsey. She wakes up as I pull the stool over and starts to move towards me. A crowd gathers at the fence just as a realise that the syringe is a bit dodgy; I can't exactly vacate my post and seek out another. It's as though the plunger is too small for the cylinder -- it just slips through with no pressure. Kempsey is enough of a dribbler without the syringe dribbling to begin with.

Joy is in yard 9 feeding O'Briens Fiona. It's so strange to see her in the wide expanses of yard 9, and with the old girls. She's seated at the end of gunyah beam, pitching towards Joy. In between drinks, she pokes her tongue in and out, like she's licking the air. Bonny Fire is shambling along a nearby beam; she was up a tree earlier so they haven't mixed formula for her yet. Cathy is watering the kids in yard 9A.

Wiruna Lucky is lounging nakedly on a nearby beam. Joy has moved aside the leaf pots so that the tourists can see; Lucky is completely exposed, but sleepily stretched out on the beam. I start to feed her and she drinks it in without moving. "Don't get up now", I mumble.

Joy is happy to feed Birthday Girl and water in yard 9 so I check on where Danae is at outside. She's watered Wonga and Sampson; I water Henry and Westi. Gem is still up his tree although he stirs; not enough to come down to feed though.

I head round to yard 10 where Danae is trying to work out which is Tractive Golfer and which is Ocean Therese. Surprisingly, both are down on their gunyahs. I suggest that Danae feeds Tom since there's a crowd around the front row. I interrupt Ocean Therese who is eating her leaf. She is happy to take the formula. I'm having no luck with syringes today. The black rubber bit comes off the plunger and embeds inself into the syringe. Danae gives up on feeding Tom who has lost interest in formula and returned to his leaf. Just then Cathy comes into the yard with Warrego Martin in a basket. I open up his yard and she lets him out. He leaps onto the beam and straight up to the highest point of his gunyah. Cathy pops Tom in the basket and takes him off to ICU.

Danae starts feeding Tractive Golfer while I water Oxley Jo then Links Lorna. Bizarrely Lorna is sitting out in the middle of her gunyah and seeminly unbothered by my presence. It's so not like her not to be hiding and eeping weakly into her leaf. Cheyne returns with Tozer Tom swinging between her arms. Cheyne is Chief Koalawrangler and you can tell by her confidence handling the koalas. She deftly plonks Tom on his gunyah; nonplussed, Tom tucks straight into his wet leaf and is immediately in the 'zone'.

Links Lorna From koalawrangler's gallery.

Tozer Tom From koalawrangler's gallery.

I return to the day-room for another syringe to finish feeding Ocean Therese. I look for Cathy and find her in the treatment room with Jo who is taking a photo of a large jar of brownish liquid. Jo gives me a new syringe and chucks the old one in the bin. Back with Therese, she's got a mouthful of leaf, but pauses to finish off the formula.

Danae waters the aviaries while I wash the formula pots. Jo is in the day-room having a late lunch so I take the opportunity to find out about a few of the koalas' conditions. Golf Starr, a koala who was found lethargic and low in a tree, has a poor prognosis as a result of Chlamydia complications. She has paraovarian cysts, thickened bladder and hydro-ureter kidney (ie the ureter has dilated into the kidney). They are waiting on blood results.

We also talk about Oxley Westi who has the exopthalmous eyes in yard 1. Apparently, they don't know what causes it. I comment that they don't seem to have improved, but Jo says that sometimes she pulls them in and sometimes she doesn't. It's an ability some animals have. We also talk about little Ocean Casurina, who I remember feeding some weeks back. Apparently she had a pinky when she was release, so perhaps she's a mother?

There's another admission, Anna Bay Miles, who's been brought in under the auspices of a wildlife trust. I also read in the day-book that there's also a koala called Crestwood Dampier, who I can't see on any of the whiteboards. It turns out she's in home-care with Barb. On a sad note, I see that Treetop Boxer was brought in a few days ago. He was found on the ground with a distended stomach. He was discovered to have cancer and was euthanased! I remember so well my second day when Geoff transferred Boxer to yard 10A before he was released only a few weeks back. At least his pain was put to an end.

Before I go, Cathy shows me and Danae how to prepare a rescue basket. It contains a pillow sealed in a garbage bag, in case they pee. You cover that in two towels and then fold another two towels length-ways so that it lines the edge of the basket cocoon-style. Finally, you insert a rolled-up towel in the centre that mimicks a "tree" for them to hold on to. Aw.

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

Goodbye Macquarie Peter!

In the fork of the branch where he perpetually sat, I see that he has left me a little present: three little pellets of koala poop nestle there. I'm momentarily taken back to easter egg hunts as a child...

Warrego Martin
From koalawrangler's gallery.

Today I'm allocated to yard 10 with Barb and a friend called Colleen she's training up. There seem to be quite a few people on today: Geoff, Peter, Mary, Anne, Judy, Barb, Danae and now Colleen. But there are about 30 koalas in the hospital at the moment, so we need every pair of hands.

We set out via the leaf shed to collect the leaf cutters although the leaf gatherer's nowhere to be seen yet. All the koalas look a bit soggy after last night's rain. They're fur is wet and stringy in places instead of the usual all-over fluffiness. Ocean Therese and Tractive Golfer are up their respective trees; the koalas that encircle yard 10 are waking up with the promise of fresh leaf.

Barb and Colleen start on Therese's yard, completely stripping her pots of leaf since she is at the highest point of her tree. I start down at Links Lorna's yard. Predictably she eeps when I enter, although I give her plenty of space. I rake up her poop, refill her water and clean out one pot of leaf and water. I stay away from her where possible; I don't want to upset her any more than my mere presence here already does.

Tozer Tom
From koalawrangler's gallery.

I do the same for Tozer Tom, Warrego Martin, Macquarie Peter and Oxley Jo. Tozer Tom is awake and enjoying some of yesterday's leaf. Although I'm standing right in front of him taking photos, he's munching away like I don't even exist: he's gone to the leaf zone.

Warrego Martin starts climbing up his umbrella. Gunyahs often have a forked branch that bisects the horizontal beam vertically; it's another place for the koala to climb up and down from the ground, and they like to sit wedged in the fork. The vertical beam on this gunyah is quite high, allowing Martin to climb up to the spokes at the underside of the umbrella. He sits up there in a squatting position looking around the yard. I think he's calculating whether he can leap across to the tree beside him; it's covered in a metal casing to about the height of the umbrella to prevent his climbing it.

Today's leaf man gives the all-clear that we can start taking the leaf he's laid out in bundles. Barb and Colleen stock up Ocean Therese and Oxley Jo. When they moved Jo into this yard, she gave Barb quite a scratching; but now she lets Barb chuck her under the chin like they are old friends.

Barb & Oxley Jo making up
From koalawrangler's gallery.

Martin might be up, but Therese is making her way down for breakfast. Barb and Colleen feed her and then, since the fresh leaf isn't ready, they take her off to ICU to be weighed. There's talk of Therese being relocated to a wildlife park in Gosford. They want her work on strengthening her leg muscles for climbing; they were damaged in the motor vehicle accident that brought her to the hospital with her joey, Ocean Kim. There's also suspected brain damage, which is why they don't want to return her to the wild: it's unlikely she would survive there.

She's such a complacent koala; I suggest to Barb she could probably carry Therese out to the treatment room in her arms. Understandably though Barb doesn't want to risk it after the slice-and-dice affair with Oxley Jo last weekend. When they return however, that's just where Therese is: snuggled in Barb's arms like an overgrown joey.

Ocean Therese From koalawrangler's gallery.

Ocean Therese with Barb From koalawrangler's gallery.

Barb tells me that Orr Palmerston, one of Sunday's admissions, was released yesterday. Cattlebrook John, the koala brought in with lethargy, is being released soon. Barb's theory is that he was probably hit by a car and his lethargy was due to shock. At first, Barb wasn't hopeful for him, but he appears to have bounced back greatly and will be released today.

I also learn that Macquarie Peter is being set free! It's a bittersweet feeling; I'm glad he's well enough to leave us. A majestic koala like Peter deserves to be climbing trees out in the bush, not stuck on a forked branch on a makeshift gunyah. Naturally, I will miss him though: he was the first koala I "bagged" and brought from ICU to the aviaries and then cared for him out here in the yards. After I finish replenishing the other yards with leaf, I do a final clean out of his yard. His water bowl is emptied, scrubbed and turned upright atop a pot-holder. The remaining leaf is thrown out and those pots scrubbed and reversed too. In the fork of the branch where he perpetually sat, I see that he has left me a little present: three little pellets of koala poop nestle there. I'm momentarily taken back to easter egg hunts as a child...

Andrea comes out to give the koalas their medication. I ask her about Oxley Jo whose wet bottom still looks quite 'angry' to me. Andrea says it would be better for her to be in an inside unit where they could keep a better watch on her, but given the space restraints, she needs to be out here. She's responding okay. There's a misconception that she's not eating much leaf; she's only a small koala and therefore isn't going to be putting away the eucalyptus of an 8kg male.

I tell her about how changeable Ellenborough Nancy was when I tended to her last week. On Thursday, she was at my throat; on Friday, she sat meekly on her gunyah without a peep. Andrea said her behaviour can be dicated by her oestrous cycle, basically the koala time of the month. How interesting koalas are!

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
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
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.

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
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.

Ocean Kim & Links VTR
From koalawrangler's gallery.

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
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.

Ellenborough Nancy
From koalawrangler's gallery.

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!


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.

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 From koalawrangler's gallery.

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.

Innes Tony
From koalawrangler's gallery.

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.

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
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
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.


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
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
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.

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.

O'Briens Fiona plotting her escape
From koalawrangler's gallery.

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.