Bonny Hills sweetheart pregnant to koala love rat!

The Mum Bonny Fire From broken_puzzle's gallery.

The alleged love rat Dad Roto Randy From broken_puzzle's gallery.

First we thought she WAS pregnant, then we thought she wasn't...but, now, thanks to some indisputable evidence caught on camera this week, we're positive that long-time hospital resident Bonny Fire is officially "in the family way", "with pinkie" or "up the pouch"! And the father is no less than that love rat extraordinaire, Roto Randy.

Last week, Bonny Fire was enjoying a manicure and pedicure courtesy of Cheyne, the hospital supervisor, and Jo, a visiting veterinary science researcher from Sydney uni (here to continue her work on how best to treat chlamydia in our koalas). Bonny's nail beds were badly damaged during the bush fires that brought her to us from Bonny Hills in 2001 (which you can see in her photo above); so Bonny comes in for the occasional nail clipping (and a complimentary French polish). Actually, technically her nails were being dremelled (ground down).

So Bonny was on the treatment room table for this routine procedure. She was anaesthetised using gas rather than injectable sedation, which was quite fortuitous since the former is much safer for pregnant koalas. At this point, it was not known that Bonny was pregnant, then suddenly -- surprise, wiggly pouch!

Wiggly pouch action caught on film (courtesy of Jo)!

Bonny's head is off camera to the left and her legs to the right. When a koala is upright, the pouch entrance runs vertically down the body. So in this footage, the pouch entrance is the barely visible "seam" that runs horizontally on the left of the shot. Above this, there is clear "pouch action" going on! Jo and Cheyne didn't look inside because the pouch opening was really tight (with an opening only about the size of a twenty cent piece) and the koala can lose her baby if disturbed.

At this stage, the joey is an unfurred pinkie weighing approximately 35 grams and still attached to its mother's teat. We won't be seeing any sign of it outside the pouch for a good three months. Even then probably it will only be a limb here and there; it will be 6-8 months before the joey fully braves the outside world and takes to riding on Bonny's back. It is likely that Bonny conceived in November 2007 when Roto Randy, the wild male koala who lives in the nature reserve near Roto House, made his unscheduled visit to yard 9 one fine Spring night.

Bonny's last pregnancy at the hospital was also the result of a midnight tryst with a male koala, this time back in December 2004. Crestwood Ryan was a fellow patient who obviously wasn't that sick since he managed to scale a fence in order to whisper sweet nothings to Bonny Fire.

Bonny Ash was the result in 2005. She remains one of the most popular adoptions in the hospital's Adopt a Wild Koala program, although she is probably having young ones of her own out there in the wild by now.

Roto Randy chasing Abigail (with joey on back) IX
From broken_puzzle's gallery.
Roto Randy has been hanging around the hospital grounds since at least October 2007 when he was sighted, stalking the female patients and residents for a bit of nooky. There were a couple of occasions when Randy made full-scale advances towards Roto Abigail, the female koala also living in the hospital grounds, despite her clearly being burdened with a dependent joey. Abigail did all she could to discourage his overtures, and a couple of times hospital staff had to step in to move Randy along (and so prevent Abigail's joey from going splat!). Hitting on a lady with a baby... Roto Randy, you're a class act!

Then, just the other week, Randy was next setting his sights on the elderly Birthday Girl. She came within his reach during her recent bionic-koala climbing spree. Randy was definitely up for it -- trumpeting out his mating call across yard 9.

Roto Randy is truly a koala love rat! He has already demonstrated all the tendencies of a deadbeat dad. Fortunately, koalas aren't very social and don't tend to hang around in family groups. The males and females come together for mating, otherwise they're on their own, unless a mother is caring for a joey.

In truth, of course, Roto Randy is not really behaving badly at all. It was mating season after all, and Randy was simply following his instincts, which naturally result in propagating the species. And we're all for MORE joeys (and hence koalas). It just makes you realise that koalas are not a "how's about dinner and a movie, then maybe later...?" kind of species. Then again, few are.

***
So there I was, just the other day, waxing lyrical about the recent glut of joeys (well, four) that we've been enjoying at the hospital. I say "enjoying", although it's a highly mixed blessing since at least two of the joeys came to us as a result of the death of their mothers (Noah's mother was hit by a car, and Holly's mother had to be euthanased). The other two were either orphaned or abandoned.

At least with Bonny jnr on the way, there's nothing but positives, since Bonny is alive and well, if a little long in the tooth. I had suggested in a recent post that perhaps Bonny would prefer to enjoy her retirement without another little anklebiter around. But, after surviving a bushfire and one unplanned pregancy, the old girl's got chutzpah, I'll give her that!

As for us at the hospital, our joey cup runneth over!

More photos of Bonny Fire. More photos of Roto Randy.

Today teamleader, tomorrow the world!

Hamlyn Bev wants out!
From koalawrangler's gallery.
I filled in as teamleader for the first time this week. Amanda is on holidays so I'm being 'her' for three whole Thursdays in a row.

I'd shadowed Amanda several times in the past and even then I'm not one to leave things to chance: I typed up a checklist spelling out everything I had to do, step-by-step.

7.01 Make sure alarm is off - check.
7.02 Turn on lights - check.
7.03 Make sure all koalas present and accounted for in ICU - check.
7.04 Unlock leaf shed - check.
7.05 Make cup of tea. Jiggle bag. Discard bag. Add milk. Check. Check Check. Check.
etc.

You think I'm kidding? I'm not kidding - it was painstakingly detailed, especially the part about the tea. I was leaving no room for error. The Idiot's Guide to Koalawrangler Teamleading - a must for every library.

Nothing was going to get stuffed up.

Not on my shift.

I even created a template in MS Word for me to use when copying down all the current koalas' names, yard numbers and formula requirements...complete with columns for charting the amount of the 3-4 varieties of leaf each koala had consumed over night (both fresh and recycled).

So it all went swimmingly.

Who's that in there?
From koalawrangler's gallery.

I went round checking each yard one by one. In the joey yard, I counted three only joeys until, with delight, I noticed one little one asleep in the leaf down on the gunyah haloed in morning light. Someone had gotten up for a midnight snack and fallen asleep in the pantry. It was One Mile Beach Noah, an orphaned joey sent up to us by our friends at the Native Animal Trust Fund. They didn't have the facilities to care for a joey, while we have a fully equipped joey nursery with three other joeys to keep Noah company while he grows. When he reaches a suitable weight, he will be returned to his home at One Mile Beach.

Why, it's One Mile Beach Noah!
From koalawrangler's gallery.

I knew it was Noah since he's the only boy and so he doesn't have a tag in his right ear like the other three girls. When I discovered him there, he looked up at me with the groggiest expression - he was still in the land of nod.

There's been a significant change to yard 9: no Birthday Girl. Thanks to some new wonder drugs (well, wonderful as it turns out for her), Birthday Girl had recently gotten a new lease on leaf. With her newfound pain relief Birthday Girl would think, "Tall tree? No problem!" and, suddenly, no tree was too tall. After being a gunyah-dweller on the mend, she became the yard 9 tree-climber extraordinaire. The trouble was, by staying up in the tree, she wasn't getting her twice-daily formula, nor her daily medication which facilitated her climbing abilities in the first place. Furthermore, she missing out on her usual array of freshly trimmed leaf...

Something needed to be done. We needed, oh I don't know, a band of professional treeclimbers...and that's just what we found. These chaps generously gave of their time and skills, climbed, bagged and brought our Birthday Girl back to earth. She is now safely ensconced in yard 7 on her own, where she can easily continue her treatment. So Bonny Fire has all of yard 9 to herself...she doesn't seem to mind.


Hamlyn Bev wants out!
From koalawrangler's gallery.
After I've checked all the koalas' leaf and poo, it's time to make up the formula. I've done this many times before, so it's a straightforward process. Jan, Jarred and an international vollie, Lisa, is there. Trish arrives and automatically heads for yard 9, somewhat taken aback about the new "separate bed" arrangement for Bonny Fire and Birthday Girl (who've been bunking together for simply years now).


Hamlyn Bev, chillin'
From koalawrangler's gallery.
Robyn is supervisor today and, as there's little treatment work to be done, she's happy for me to lend a hand in the yards. I join Jan in yard 10 where there are currently four koalas: Tractive Golfer, Oxley Denise, Hamlyn Bev and Granite Murray.

Hamlyn Bev
From koalawrangler's gallery.

The beautiful Hamlyn Bev (who is back with us after being virtually raised at the hospital as a joey) is presently sitting on the ground, after having spent the last 10 minutes gambolling about her yard, trying to drum up a feed. She's never backwards about letting you know she wants formula. Apparently the cheeky little sausage bit Peter on the knee the other day to hurry up her tucker... Little scamp! Of course, she can do no wrong in our eyes...

I'm glad to say today's shift went well. Phew!

Click here to see more photos of this week's koala patients recovering at the Koala Hospital, Port Macquarie.

Freeing the Foxie lady (again)

Newport Bridge Gloria
From koalawrangler's gallery.
When I drove in this morning, there was a koala trap set up around one of the towering gums that overhangs yard 9. What's that about, I wonder?

I see there's been a koala shuffle afoot in the last week: the koala in yard 2 is NOT Warrego Martin. All I can tell at first glance is that it's one of the girls, I'm just not sure which yet. I'm hoping the change means good news for Martin, rather than the worst kind...

Sure enough, when I get inside I learn that Warrego Martin has been released. Yay! Regatta Lanaye has been shifted along one into Martin's old spot and little Newport Bridge Gloria has moved from her inside unit to yard 3.

Just as I suspected the koala trap outside is for Birthday Girl. Her vigour has taken something of a dramatic upward turn of late. She used to be almost glued to the spot on one of the gunyahs, only occasionally limping along to seek out fresh leaf (such as in the video below).


Birthday Girl suffers from debilitating arthritis but has been receiving ongoing treatment (and much TLC) from the koala hospital staff. Lately, they've been giving her new medication that works so well, Birthday Girl seems to be convinced she can walk on water (or at least climb pretty high, which is more usual). It reminds me a little of the 1985 movie Cocoon in which a bunch of elderly people discover a pool filled with alien cocoons. After swimming in it, it has a 'fountain of youth' effect on them and they find themselves capable of doing things they hadn't done for years. In Birthday Girl's case she's even been sighted flirting outrageously with Roto Randy, the rogue male who hangs about the grounds looking out for any available females. I even heard him serenading her with his mating call...


Birthday Girl and Roto Randy
From koalawrangler's gallery.
The trouble is that she's been missing her twice-daily supplements and not getting her usual supply of leaf. There's also a concern that she only seems capable of moving in one direction - up. She doesn't seem to have a reverse gear...

There's some sad, if expected, news. Ocean Joseph, the sweet-tempered male koala who sustained a fractured pelvis in a car accident, has been euthanased. A major concern was that he didn't seem to be urinating. It turned out that the fracture had occurred in his sacrum (a large, triangular bone at the base of the spine). As this healed, it created a callous which blocked or pinched the nerve that instructs the bladder to release urine; while the nerve responsible for telling the bladder to hold urine was still operational. Consequently, the urine had backed up in his ureters, distending his bladder out of all proportion and damaging his kidneys. Even if his mobility issues had been remedied, the nerve damage prevented this essential urination function. Joseph was a special favourite around here, being affectionately dubbed "Gessepe" by Peter, one of the regular teamleaders. Here's a video of Peter fetching the acquiescent Joseph from his gunyah for a weigh-in.


It goes that way: some sad news, some good news. Granite Murray has been moved outside to the circular yard in yard 10. This is Tractive Golfer's turf. Hopefully, these two alpha males can temporarily share the space amicably. I've said it before and I'll say it again - there's nothing more rewarding than moving a koala to an outside yard after they've been stuck inside in ICU for treatment for several weeks. Once they're outside, it usually means they've done the hard yards and are now in rehab mode in preparation for release.

Regatta Lanaye
From koalawrangler's gallery.

Newport Bridge Gloria was was moved outside to yard 3 is one we're hopeful of seeing released. This is the second time she has been brought in with wet bottom symptoms, the last time was a year ago. This time around her bottom still has a red tinge but it looks dry. It takes a while for the tail fur to clean itself up after wet bottom has struck.

Hindman Foxie is another koala we've seen in the hospital a few times. Her left eye is blind and completely clouded over. Twice in the last two months, we have been alerted to there being a koala with an obviously damaged eye. Conjunctivitis is a sign of chlamydia so we are just as concerned to investigate sore eyes since wet bottoms as koalas with one or the other still carry the same bacteria.

Hindman Foxie
From koalawrangler's gallery.

In Foxie's case however, her right eye is quite healthy and she's in pretty good shape for her age. Whenever she hears the Koala Hospital truck pull up, she's probably thinking, "oh, not you lot again!".

I accompany Peter to release Foxie near Kooloonbung Creek, an area away from the road with lots of gum trees and other dense foliage. When we put back the lid, she continues to sit in her basket for a few moments while she takes it all in. Then she's off, bounding up the tree for several feet until she does the customary koala look-back, that seems to say "I'm okay, you can go now!"

Click here to see more photos of this week's koala patients at the Koala Hospital, Port Macquarie.

The great koala chase

Tawny Frogmouth and chick in yard 9
From koalawrangler's gallery.
No, when I left the koala hospital this afternoon I didn't expect I'd be chasing a koala down Pacific Drive before I made it home.

Cheyne asked me to come in to the hospital this arvo to put my slide-wench skills to good use. She is giving a presentation next week on the work we do at the koala hospital, and the finer details of PowerPoint were eluding her.

So after spending a couple of hours animating text and cropping some pretty gruesome photos of dog attacks and motor vehicle accidents, I was glad to get out amongst the well-tended, luckier koalas in our care.

Three Dutch ladies outside Perks Chris's yard beckoned to me as I locked up. They were having trouble picking out our old girls in yard 9. I was happy to give them an impromptu tour along the perimeter of the yards. Birthday Girl was curled up on the gunyah, but I couldn't see Bonny up her usual tree. I thought she might have gone into hiding in case Roto Randy was feeling the love again (as he did the other night when he broke into yard 9 and, we suspect, had his wicked way with her). But we walked north around yard 9 and could see Bonny curled up on the gunyah on the other side.

The cute little tawny frogmouth mother was still there with her chick, pretending to be a tree branch. Wiruna Lucky seemed to be the only koala awake and snuffling her leaf. Around in yard 10, Westport Lily was tucked up in the spines of her umbrella.

Little did I know that these weren't the last koalas I would see today!

Since it was still light, I drove home via the coast road rather than Lord Street. I had passed Flynn's Beach shops when I saw a couple walking a huge dog, something like a cross between a wolf and a shetland pony. They'd come to a stop by a large tree at the side of the road, where, to my complete shock, there sat a koala. As I sped by, it looked peculiarly like the koala and the dog were having a conversation (fortunately the dog was on a tight leash).

I immediately pulled over and jumped out of the car, not sure what I was going to do when I got out. Did I have a towel in the car if I needed to pick the koala up, should something happen? I had no chance to find out as, the koala decided he'd had enough with talking to the dog and bounded headlong into the road, Pacific Drive. I only had enough time to recognise that the koala had an orange tag in its ear (so was a former hospital patient).

My gut response was to fling myself into the traffic (not really TRAFFIC, there were a few cars coming on either side). I waved my hands frantically at the cars going south and then threw myself in the way of cars approaching north. Fortunately, everyone stopped and our plucky koala bounded off down Leanda street headed for who-knows-where.

Of course, I went after it. I felt a bit like Alice following her white rabbit down the rabbit hole. I was also starting to wonder which piece of clothing--my t-shirt or my pants (the wraparound Thai fisherman variety)--would be the least offensive garment to remove if I needed to use them to pick up the koala. Yes, this is the kind of madness that goes through the mind of a koalawrangler when hot on the heels of a scampering koala. Of course, what I was going to do with the koala when I got it was a another matter.

I saw a guy approaching at a distance with a dog--I squawked at him, "Is your dog on a leash?! I've got a koala here!". Naturally.

My koala didn't seem to know where it was going but stopped and paused on someone's front lawn before heading off into their side yard. As a I tramped through the backyards of Leanda Street, I realised I was harbouring the illogical sense that this was somehow a lost koala--probably because it had an ear-tag and I wasn't used to seeing tagged koalas outside the hospital. It somehow felt that this koala was AWOL from yard 10 or something. It wasn't of course, nor did there look to be anything wrong with it. He was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

It seemed to me that I would need help so I got the koala hospital on the line. John answered and I talked (or more like, squawked) my way through the situation. The koala seemed to have worked its way into a corner. The side yard backed onto two other yards where three fences met at a point, two metal and one wood. Amazingly, the koala climbed the wooden fence and along the metal fence.

It was beyond my help now.

A guy in the backyard next door was cracking open a beer. I blurted out from the shrubbery, "do you have a dog?". I think looking at horrible photos of koala dog-attack victims all afternoon had unsettled me. The bloke wandered over to the fence as I watched the koala's dappled behind disappear up the fence line away from me.

"Oh don't worry", he told me. "He's usually here".

Ohhhh. So I'd just been stalking someone's very own backyard koala???

Just then, the koala in question sat back on his haunches and let out a loud koala mating drawl--definitely a male. If he was a gorilla, he'd probably have been beating on his chest about now.

"There are koala trees just here", the man continued, like having a koala in his backyard was the most natural thing in the world. Behind me, I heard a miaow. A calico cat was looking at me quizzically as if to say, "what are doing in my owner's rose bushes?". It seems like I was the only entity who was concerned about the koala being there.

So I headed home, living to wrangle another day!

No Clover allowed on Golfer's turf

It's a case of marsupial West Side Story except instead of the Jets and the Sharks, it's the Koalas and...well...the Koalas.

Candelo Cool
From koalawrangler's gallery.

Brrr! It's a chilly old morning here in Koalaville. All the koalawranglers arrived rugged up in long trousers, fleecy tops and scarves. Even Cheyne has forgone her customary shorts for more winter-friendly attire. It's times like these you've got to envy those among us with built-in fur coats.

I see that the koala money boxes are still stacked on the dayroom table so busy myself with scattering them around the yards. On my way through yard 9, Bonny is up her usual tree while Birthday Girl looks at me beseechingly for her tucker. Wiruna Lucky hasn't been playing nicely with the other girls, so they've given her a yard to herself--9a, the former joey lovenest. She's perched up in the tree and illuminated by yellow morning light. She looks enormous in the yard that has been joey territory for so long. Ocean Kim has recently joined Lake Christmas in the traditional joey yard (yard 6).


Wiruna Lucky
From koalawrangler's gallery.
Amanda is still reading leaf in yard 5. She returns to the dayroom after her rounds and begins allocating yards. Kerstin's up in yard 10 where only Candelo Cool and Tractive Golfer reside; Brooke's in yard 9, Paul's in yards 5 and 6 and I'm in 3 and 4. Jarrod is helping Geoff with some maintenance work in ICU. The walls in ICU have all received a fresh lick of paint. The bright eggshell blue is quite a change after the previously dour grey.

Jackie is tending to her two charges in ICU: Sandhill Col, a koala brought in with Chlamydia in both eyes. When he turns from yesterday's leaf, he peers out at me through eyes that are angry red. He's slated for surgery tomorrow, so we'll see how he fares. Another inmate is Cattlebrook John. I remember his name. He was brought in back in February with symptoms of lethargy. I remember Barb conjecturing at the time that he might have been hit by a car. He spent a few days in ICU and things didn't look too hopeful. Then, miraculously, he seemed to perk up and was released. It's thought that a motor vehicle accident is to blame for his admission this time as well. He appears to be concussed, but he also has an infection which we're waiting on bloods to confirm.

Cattlebrook John
From koalawrangler's gallery.

I've got Anna Bay Sooty and Livingstone Clover to look after out in the yards. Neither gets any formula, so it's straight onto poop and leaf detail. I start on Clover who's currently up the tree in yard 4. I attended the hospital's 3pm walk-and-talk on Sunday, so was able to catch up on a little bit of history about Clover from Barb.

Clover was brought in suffering from a gammy knee and after his initial stint in ICU was moved to the circular yard in yard 10. You'd think that and old man like Tractive Golfer who suffers from a few mobility problems himself would be sympathetic to the likes of poor old Clover. But no. Golfer has the run of the place in yard 10 and is generally not too bothered when other koalas are assigned to the smaller yards adjacent to his. He also tends to ignore it when koalas are placed in the circular yard within yard 10. That is, as long as they are FEMALE koalas. Golfer was none too pleased about the presence of Clover. Males koalas can be quite bullish about their home range and like to be king of their little stretch of "jungle".

Golfer even decided he wanted to explain the home-range rules to Clover in person: one morning the handlers found Golfer IN Clover's yard. Despite suffering from rather pronounced spinal curvature (thanks to his scoliosis), Golfer managed to scale the metal fence into Clover's yard and was giving him a bit of a hard time about being the new kid on the block in Golfer's turf. It's a case of marsupial West Side Story except instead of the Jets and the Sharks, it's the Koalas and...well...the Koalas.

The powers that be decided the best for Clover's recuperation would be to get him off Golfer's radar. Despite shipping Clover out, Golfer still broke his way into Clover's old yard this morning. Amanda found him in there wandering about, no doubt ensuring there were no more interlopers.

So Clover's yard's an easy one to clean, with Clover sleeping peacefully on high. Amanda asks me to look after Kempsey too. She's pacing up and down her gunyah wanting her formula, so I duck into the dayroom to get her food. Feeding her draws a crowd of interested visitors. I lure her down the visitor-friendly end with the smell of formula. She laps it up in her methodically dribbly way.


Kempsey Carolina
From koalawrangler's gallery.
I carry on and prepare her leaf. Kempsey's hungry today. I put her full pots in place and Kempsey weaves in and out of the branches looking for the choicest leaf. She starts backing her way down the gunyah until it looks like she's going to slip of the end. I put my cupped hands gently around her white bottom just as she taks a step too far... She works it out though and changes out of reverse gear. For a blind koala, she's pretty savvy.


Anna Bay Sooty
From koalawrangler's gallery.
Kerstin's finished in yard 10 and comes in to see if she can help out. I've cleaned Clover's yard; all the remains is to replenish his fresh leaf which she's happy to do. I continue on with Anna Bay Sooty who's been asleep all morning. I notice a large brown patch on her hind quarters. I wonder if it's a bit of joey poking out of her pouch? I catch Cheyne in the yard and she suggests it could be "her pap coming through". Pap is a type of koala poo that the mother produces for the baby koala to eat, much like colostrum in humans. It contains all the right ingredients for preparing the joey's gut for its impending eucalyptus diet.

We go into Sooty's yard to inspect more closely, but it turns out to be nothing more than a brown patch of fur that I hadn't noticed before. Cheyne says it's characteristic of darker-furred koalas to have such patches. They also tend to have brown claws; they go hand in hand, a bit like brown hair/brown eyes in humans.

Well, it may not have been a sign of the forthcoming joey, but Sooty's pouch has certainly grown hefty in the last few weeks. As I move her leaf pots around and she moves to accommodate them, I can see the hanging roundness of her belly. It's a shame, but we won't get to see Sooty's little one. Sooty's ready to be released in the next week or two, and that's not to be delayed by a certain koalawrangler's desire to see a freshly hatched joey in the flesh.

There are some serious mating-style noises emanating from ICU. The maintenance team are in there tinkering down the sink end of the corridor. Every once in a while Cattlebrook John lets loose with their unique growling sound, a koala-style foghorn.

In the dayroom, I flick through the daybook and see there's been a few comings and goings. Emerald Oz was briefly admitted and then released, having been reported on a fence with barking bull terriers. Hassall Coal was also on a fence, this time in a yard with two Staffordshire terriors. She was relocated to a safer area. There was also Airport Keena, a juvenile found up in the rafters of a freight hanger at the airport who was also relocated.

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

Easy like Sunday morning

Tightening two strings with both hands around the middle of the gunyah, I suddenly fancy I'm lacing a corset...albeit a skinny terry-toweling corset on a long wooden beam that has a koala attached to it. Hmmm, what would Freud say?

Kennedy Easy
From koalawrangler's gallery.

I had written in the daybook that I wouldn't be in today. Then I wound up back in Port after a briefer-than-expected trip to Sydney, so I arrived at the hospital "unannounced", as it were.

I drop off my newspapers and notice a few new names on the mini whiteboards in ICU. One darling girl is Kennedy Easy who was found in a yard with a dog! She's not snuggled into her leaf as most of the other ICU patients are, but peering out into the corridor, and at me as I walk past. She looks quite peaceful. They've only got her in for observation. Right now though, she's observing me.

Pete says I'm to help Cheryle in yard 9. I've met Cheryle a few times before; I used to wonder if she was somehow 'related' to Jupiter Cheryl (eg, was involved in her rescue), but they spell their names differently :)

Cheryle's just coming out of the babies' yard with a bunch of leaf. The babies (Linksy and Kimmy) are frolicking around on the their gunyah, wide-eyed, and looking for fresh leaf. Cheryle has already done most of the recycle in the main yard. It's just a question of feeding and sweeping now.

Bonny Fire is up her tree. There's a little bit of concern as she hasn't been coming down much lately to be fed. She's one of the older girls, so it's important for her to be fed her supplement. Pete also wants to check on the thing they spied between one of her toes last Sunday. Perhaps it wasn't a tick after all, but a funny sort of skin tag.

Lucky is wandering around the edge of the yard, near the corner she seems to favour: near the graves of Perch Miracle and Cloud, two of the hospital's most cherished permanent-resident koalas. Cheryle grabs Lucky's feedpot and heads her way, calling out to her gently so as not to scare her. I head for Birthday Girl's gunyah and try to locate her in the foliage. She's deeply buried under an arched sweep of leaf, so I crouch beneath it to share the sanctuary of her cubby hole. As she looks up at me, her grey face is speckled golden brown from the sun filtering through the leaves. She takes the syringe gently, with none of the urgency of the younger koalas. She knows her meal's a sure thing.

Cheryle carries on with the recycle while I rake the poop on the astroturf. There are one or two runnier patches, which is unusual for koala poo. Cheryle says that Lucky seems to be suffering from a bit of diarrhoea.

With the main yards raked, I set off to sweep out the babies' yard. All I can see is an impossibly white bottom poking through the leafy gunyah.



Then she sits up and takes notice -- why, it's Ocean Kim!


It's hard to clean in a yard with the most gorgeous koala specimens so nearby. They're kids and their hungry and they know we generally come bearing food. They're I wander around the gunyah to see what Linksy's up to. He's making a good meal of yesterday's remaining nicholii.


Links VTR
From koalawrangler's gallery.
I wrench myself free of the joeys' grasp (of cuteness) to replenish the numerous water bowls around the main part of the yard. Lucky Wiruna is still on the ground but is making her way over to the gunyah. Surprisingly, Birthday Girl has switched gunyahs -- from her usual one near the joeys, over to the main gunyah configuration that Lucky and Bonny typically share. When I tell Cheryle about it, she's surprised (and impressed!) that Birthday Girl still has the agility to climb. She's an old koala and suffers from arthritis.

Ellenborough Nancy
From koalawrangler's gallery.

We're now waiting for fresh leaf so I wander over to yard 10 where Jim and Emma are. I'm keen to see how Ellenborough Nancy is settling in at her new digs in Links Lorna's old yard. (I also wonder how little Eepy is doing out in the wild). Ocean Therese is sleeping curled up on her gunyah, Tractive Golfer is chewing at yesterday's leaf. Oxley Jo is snuggled up in her leaf as well. Emma is feeding Sandfly Jye and Jim is cleaning Ocean Roy's pots. I ask how the new third pot is going. We installed these (with sticky tape!) last Sunday. Apparently, some have slipped down a little, but generally they are doing their job of providing a extra shelter on these less shady yards. An additional problem which we didn't anticipate during our feasibility study and cost-benefit analysis (ie two minutes' of conversation last Sunday) is the poop factor. We knew that the fixed pots could not be removed for thorough cleaning; they would have to be squirted clean with a hose. We also didn't count on the koalas using the third pot as an ersatz tree trunk and pooping into them. Jim wants to try to obtain some more metal pot brackets and afix them to the gunyah properly.

Ocean Roy
From koalawrangler's gallery.

I look in on Ellenborough Nancy. I'm glad they gave the room upgrade to Nancy. She's a koala who would really appreciate the shift from the aviaries to here. It's wonderful to see her outside in the sun and out of the shadows. She looks different; her eye, to my untrained one, looks completely cured, compared to the weepy left eye she came in with. I glance over to Ocean Roy. He suddenly demonstrates one of those unexpected leaps that koalas are capable of -- about two metres straight off his gunyah to the ground. It takes Jim and me by surprise. Roy's just doing a perimeter check of his yard. I yoo-hoo him at him and he looks up, bleached white by the sun.

Calwalla Bill
From brokenpuzzle's gallery.

The leaf arrives and we quickly replenish the outside yards before starting inside in ICU. I've got Calwalla Bill, the koala who swiped at Helen the other week. I'm not going to be complacent about doing his unit; I'll keep out of his way and hopefully he'll keep out of mine. He's down the left of his gunyah so I replace the towel at the right, leaving a long string dangling at in the middle in preparation for the next towel. I give him some lovely wet leaf down the right end and he ambles down towards it, unfortunately positioning himself right in the centre of the gunyah.

I manage to secure the new towel on the left side now, but can't finish the job with Bill's butt right above my head (where I need to tie the final knot). I concentrate on the rest of his gunyah -- sweeping up newspaper, mopping the floor (darting looks at him all the while) and relaying the paper. I may as well not exist for all the attention I'm getting from Bill -- he's gobbling up his new leaf. Finally, he shuffles in a bit further and I can tie of the loose strings. Tightening two strings with both hands around the middle of the gunyah, I suddenly fancy I'm lacing a corset...albeit a skinny terry-toweling corset on a long wooden beam that has a koala attached to it. Hmmm, what would Freud say?

Oxley Nina
From brokenpuzzle's gallery.

Peter and Emma are both working on Oxley Nina (a newcomer)'s gunyah. She was brought in after a motor vehicle accident (her nose and chin look a little grazed). It's suspected that she may be harbouring a joey in her pouch. Like many koalas, she's not interested in moving around her gunyah to allow fresh towelling to be laid down -- not even moving in the direction of new leaf. It becomes a team effort -- just as Emma lures Nina northwards up the fork bisecting her gunyah, I wack the towel down which Peter then adroitly ties on.

In the dayroom having the post-shift cuppa, I check out some of the changes afoot since I was last in. I'm saddened to discover that Nulla Sam's swelling was the result of an infected dog bite. Koalas are non-aggressive and non-treatening animals, making them vulnerable to such attacks...and therefore undeservingly so! I also notice that Bellevue Bill's prognosis is now listed as poor -- his kidneys have become affected. Bill is such a sweet boy, and young(ish). I'll keep my fingers crossed for him.

More optimistically, I see that there have been a few releases: Hindman Foxie (who has a joey in her pouch) and Oxley Westi (the one with the protruding eyes). A koala has been admitted and released in the days since I last worked at the hospital. Her name is Dunbogan Tracy (after one of the international vollies here) and she looks like such a cutie! You can also read what Tracy and Chris had to say about her here.

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

Diary of a koala-feeding platform

The koala in the bag weighs a tonne, but I hold him out before me like the precious cargo he is. I have a momentary fantasy about being a swagman with a purloined jumbuck in my tucker bag.

O'Briens Fiona
From koalawrangler's gallery.

It's regular koalawrangling duties today, not teamleader training, so I start at 8am with the usual Friday crowd. Barb's friend Colleen is here and we are teamed together in yard 9. I'm glad about this since I'll get to see what antics our Fiona gets up to today.

I hear that Innes Wonga slated for release so his arthritic leg must have healed. There's a flurry of activity as vollies grab their respective feeding pots and head out to their assigned yards. Lucky Wiruna's and Birthday Girl's pot food is mixed up, but not O'Briens Fiona's or Bonny Fire's. Barb tells us that the latter two are still up trees. I tell her about yesterday's shenanigans with Fiona; I have a hunch she'll be down in no time once she sees the others being fed. Using my newfound formula-mixing skills, I quickly whip up her double dose (they're trying to fatten her up since she was underweight when re-admitted). I also grab a towel on the way through ICU; I'm determined not to be a koala's pin-cushion today.

In the yard, we locate Wiruna Lucky and Birthday Girl without too much trouble. Birthday Girl isn't on her usual gunyah, but she's much bigger than either Fiona or Bonny so I'm sure it's her. Lucky is distinguished by a splotchy pink nose, so is easy to spot. Colleen takes Lucky, donning some yellow washing-up gloves before she starts. She's obviously taken one look at those koala talons and doesn't want to risk a scratching. I take Birthday Girl, who eats gratefully.

O'Briens Fiona
From koalawrangler's gallery.

With a few syringe-fuls to go, I spot some fuzzy movement out of the corner of my eye. It's Fiona descending her tree as if by clockwork. In no time, she's bounding over to where I stand feeding Birthday Girl. Obviously, I can't crouch (to discourage Fiona from climbing me) and feed Birthday Girl at the same time. O'Briens Fiona is insistent; she wants her breakfast, and she plans on being irritating until she gets it. I give in to Fiona's urgency and ask Colleen if she'll finish feeding Birthday Girl after Lucky.

Grabbing Fiona's pot and a towel, I walk over where there's some raised astroturf under a gunyah, thinking it will be more comfortable than the crouched position I assumed yesterday. I sit down and cover my arm with a towel, expecting Fiona to sit beside me like any normal koala. But, no. My body is no impediment to Fiona's hunger and her wiley ways. She walks straight onto my lap like I'm a horizontal tree with some tasty swamp mahogany leaf in my fingers. I quickly stick the syringe in her mouth and she starts sucking away. Her claws are resting on my chest and I'm grateful for my smock as an added layer of protection. I may have avoided becoming a koala pin-cushion today, but I'm certainly a koala-feeding platform.

Fiona's sitting on my lap and I'm thankful the towel's under her in case she decides to pee. She's so light, she feels no heavier than my cat. I hold no illusions about this being an intimate moment between us. Her brown eyes are glassy and I know I'm nothing more than a tree trunk with with food on offer to her. I have to pause to refill the syringe and Fiona reaches for frantically for it, brooking no delay. I also feel that this is somehow wrong; I should be avoiding human contact with her as she's a wild animal. I generally don't touch the koalas at all, even to pat them on the back, since I'm aware that what might feel inexpressibly soft to us can be a form of invasion to them. But the feed is under way and I resolve to finish it before extricating myself.

Once the pot is dry, I lean to the side and Fiona slips off neatly onto the dirt. She shimmies up the nearest tree and assumes the position for the rest of the day...until the afternoon feed, that is. Bonny Fire shows no sign of coming down so we set about the yard duties. There's two recycle pots, which we replenish with the best of yesterday's leaf and place next to Lucky and Birthday Girl so that they have shelter while they sleep.

Ocean Kim
From koalawrangler's gallery.

Kimmy and Linksy in yard 9A are down from their trees and snuffling about in yesterday's Nichollii, their favourite leaf. We rake their yard, but leave the leaf until the fresh stuff arrives. There's little to do until the leaf-collector cometh, so we head to the day-room for a cuppa.

Jo emerges with a bag and asks if I'll bag Sandfly Jye. My teamleader/handling training continues. Jye is seated on a high fork in his gunyah and I'm wishing I were a foot taller as I fling the bag over his head. He resists, predictably. This time I've got a hold of his forearms as I've seen the other handlers do. I tell this to Jo and she instructs "well, pull him off". Jo's standing back letting me do it all; there's no point it wimping out and letting the more experienced one help. It's a bit like pulling staples out with your fingers; he's stuck to the wood like glue. Somehow or other I manage to get him off and enclosed in the bag. During the whole process, I'm murmuring a litany of soothing words, trying to stave off the koala's fear. It's funny how you do some things automatically. I hand the koala bagful over to Jo. I asked jokingly if she thought the verbal encouragement helped. "Well, it helped you anyway", she says.

I return to the day-room, triumphant. Soon enough, Jo reemerges from the treatment room toting a heavy bag. They've finished with Jye; can I return him? He weighs a tonne, but I hold him out before me like the precious cargo he is. I have a momentary fantasy about being a swagman with a purloined jumbuck in my tucker bag. I gently lower Jye to the ground of his unit and open the mouth of the bag to let him find his way back. He ambles out, slightly disoriented, and seeks out his gunyah for comfort.

When the leaf does arrive, there is a strange leaf I haven't seen before. The bark is papery and black, and the branches zigzag at crazy angles. It sports fluffy yellow flowers like bottlebrush and has the most intense lemony-camphor smell of any eucalypt I've come across. Danae views it suspiciously, but Barb assures us that the koalas love to eat the flowers. It's a melaleuca, which gives me bittersweet memories of poor Melaleuca Alfie.


Links VTR
From koalawrangler's gallery.
The joeys in yard 9A, bound down from their tree and tuck into their leaf. Barb comes out to check on Links VTR. She has a word to me about O'Briens Fiona. Next time she does the crawling act I should just pick her up and plonk her on a gunyah to feed; we don't want koalas trying to crawl over people in the street looking for formula once they're released... Now that I'm more adept at handling them, it's probably something I could feel comfortable doing. Ask me to pick up a koala last week and it would have been a different story.

Barb makes off with Links VTR in her arms in order to weigh him. He's perched over her shoulder looking at at the world just like my cat does. When he returns, we learn that he's just under 3.5kg. They won't release him until he gets more comfortable with climbing. Barb explains that Links just doesn't display the usual koala desire of wanting to be high up in a tree. He would prefer to be down low where there's the eucalyptus version of a Sizzler salad bar. He's even developing a bit of a paunch.

Barb & Links VTR
From koalawrangler's gallery.

As Barb returns him to the tree, she places her hand under his bottom and tells him in a mock-berating tone to climb up the tree, not down. Linksy reaches out his bent little nose and sniffs her. I know it's not an affectionate gesture, but it really looks like one from our human vantage point.

With the leaf pots all replenished, I rake up the excess and dump it at the leaf skip. Jo is passing by on her way to yard 10 with another empty bag, this one destined for Oxley Jo. Do I want to bag her? I'll just have to give up on Oxley Jo wanting to be my best friend. She's a little easier than Jye to bag since she's so small, like a big joey. Jo stands in front of her to distract her while I sneak up on her behind with a bag. I pop it over her head and she starts to eep wildly in protest. I feel for her wrists again and try to wrench them as gently as possible from the gunyah. I recall that if you pull them slightly apart, the koala has to let go. She sort of drops into the bag at this point, and I let the bag ease to the ground. Her bottom is wriggling out the mouth of the bag and I scramble to close it around her.

Jo says I've done a good job. The main thing is not to drop the koala! Check! I think I'd probably throw myself under a falling koala before I'd let that happen. She also says that you can have all the koala-bagging experience in the world, but a bagging can still go wrong. I should take heart at this.

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.

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.


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.


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.


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.

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 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.

Koalawrangler training academy

You can actually use your own body weight to pin the koala against the tree/fence. You use press down on its forehead to stop it climbing and call for assistance. This produces a fanciful picture in my head as I imagine myself discovered in some unlawful position, a frightened koala wedged between myself and a tree...

Birthday Girl & friend
From koalawrangler's gallery.
Today Cheyne held a koala handling and rescue training workshop using both real and toy koalas. Can you tell the difference?

A bunch of us koala-wrangling novices signed up and we got to learn the best way to pick up a koala -- both in day-to-day handling and rescue situations. (I can't say that I ever expected my life to contain the potential for "day-to-day koala handling", but there you have it).

We all sat around the day-room table -- there are a few familiar faces such as Yasmin from Thursdays and Jules the tour guide, as well as about 10 others I haven't met before. I guess these must be the volunteers for the other days. It's hard to imagine this place with others doing the job you do on your own shift -- you maintain the illusion that the place goes into suspended animation when you're gone. It's also hard to imagine others tending to the koalas you've been looking after. The connection feels so intimate, probably because we translate the koalas' natural passivity into trust and affection. I know I feel it and I've noticed how ardently some of the long-term koala volunteers express the relationship they perceive between themselves and a particular koala. Some of these people have been tending to the koalas for years and the result is often a fierce if one-sided bond. I overhear that Oxley Griffin and Pacific Sam have both been released since I was last here. My immediate reaction is: I shared something with these little critters and now they're gone.

Someone brandishes a copy of the Port Macquarie News. They had printed an article about little Cloud, the tiny grey koala who was badly burnt in the 1994 bush fires but lived in the koala hospital for the next 13 years. She was euthanased on Saturday. Another woman who I think was the team-leader for the afternoon shift said, "well, I can't read that now or I'll cry. There's been a lot of tears shed over this koala and no-one deserves to cry about it more than me. I was closer to Cloud than anyone". She pushed the article aside and returns her eyes to the day-book. It's an urgent affection I've also found myself feeling after only a few short weeks, so I can understand something of her sentiment.

Cheyne bustles into the room in her usual blue v-neck hospital blouse and shorts. She's laid two large koala-rescue poles on the floor and assembled a koala-rescue kit for us to see. Before the session starts, Cheyne tells us that if any of us are interested in fire-ground work then we should tell her at the end. By fire-ground she means searching areas where fires have come through for surviving koalas. I don't know if I could do it -- I read about the demise of Perch Miracle on the Hospital website, a koala who was literally heat-sealed to her tree. Still she was rescued and survived for some years before she died unexpectedly. Cheyne warns us that it is dangerous work -- you need to undertake fire awareness training offered by the state before you are allowed onto the fire-ground site.

But today we are to begin simply with how to approach a koala with the intention of picking it up. I'm delighted when she refers to the skills involved as a sort of "koala whispering". We consult the handout she has provided, entitled Basic Koala Handling. The priority is to ensure no injuries are sustained by the handler -- if the handler is okay, there is a better chance that the koala will be okay.

We talk about how to read koala body language. If you get bitten or scratched by the koala, you're probably doing something wrong. There is a lengthy list of signs to look for that carry meanings that can be deciphered by the koala-whisperer-trained eye: ear-flicking (which I first experienced with Tozer Tom back on my first day) can mean pain or irritation. Eye-popping is also a sign of fear, which they often see in koalas on the treatment table. Some signs are more ambiguous; a very quiet koala can mean it is very ill or just good-tempered.

Cheyne raises the interesting point of anthropomorphism, essentially ascribing an animal with human characteristics or projecting human feelings onto them. For example, a koala might extend its face towards its handler in a Kiwi greeting fashion. This is a gesture seeking smell recognition, not affection! Equally, when a contented koala reaches its arms towards you, it is not for a hug; it's in order to get more formula or leaf. Cheyne's intention appears to be to shatter our fragile illusions about the bond we imagine we have with the koalas. According to Cheyne, we are simply "walking formula/leaf" to the koalas. We all joke that of course we knew that, but secretly harbour our own convictions that, "no, they really love me! My relationship with them is special!"

She also shatters another illusion: koalas aren't too bright as a species. They are simply not very intelligent; they have a basic plan. I wait for her to say "eats, shoots and leaves". Geoff offers "eats, sleeps and makes nuggets (poop)" instead. Cheyne tells us that the koala brain is not very convoluted, but is instead fairly smooth. Its spheres are also quite separate. The wombat, the koala's closing relative, is actually smarter. Cheyne hastens to add that "more advanced" doesn't mean better: just look at humans and how well we've screwed things up for ourselves.

So we've got to think like koalas and not like humans, whatever that means. Some koalas are just "fruitcakes"; that is, wild and unpredictable in human terms, but the way koalas should be. These are generally the koalas that have had very little to do with humans, like those from the Ellenborough region. The local koalas are used to people, which is not really a good thing. So fruitcake = good, unless you're trying to rescue one.

Cheyne & Wiruna Lucky
From koalawrangler's gallery.

We go outside with the equipment and into yard 9 where the permanent girls are. We're not going to each be able to pick up a koala today -- "the poor thing'll be worn out", says Cheyne. But she gives us a demonstration on one of the girls. The first thing is to give the koala some warning of your intentions by speaking softly and gently running your hand up the koala's back. This seems counter-intuitive to me; my experience with our cat is to do everything quickly before she has a chance to scratch/bite, like wait till she's asleep before sneaking up on her and stuffing her quickly in the catbox. But this is not how koalas are made. They're not braced to attack, but can be unpredictable especially after undergoing a trauma.

Jules the guide wants to know how to get a koala to release its "Arnold Schwarzenegger grip" on the gunyah/tree. Because their claws are not retractable, it's difficult to lift them off -- but, to return to the cat analogy, it's not like they're gripping to resist you, they simply can't release their claws if you're pulling against them. The key is to slip your fingers under their wrists and push their forearm forward to release their claws. Cheyne demonstrates on Wiruna Lucky, one of the placid gang-of-four girls in yard 9. She looks slightly piqued, but submits. Cheyne also demonstrates how to stop a koala from advancing: simply press its forehead gently. The same technique is used to stop a koala climbing up a tree.

Cheyne & Wiruna Lucky
From koalawrangler's gallery.

The handout talks about three types of koalas: quiet, bitey, and frightened. I can't help but think of cheese when I read "bitey", as in Bega Strong & Bitey vintage cheddar. The "quiet" koalas need less precautionary measures than bitey or frightened koalas. Even if you are aware of all the signs to read that indicate fear or irritation, Cheyne says that a koala may look placid enough but could have cortisol (a stress hormone) coursing through its body (making it a fruitcake-in-waiting).

Cheyne & Wiruna Lucky
From koalawrangler's gallery.

Most of the koalas we tend in the hospital seem quiet, but then I haven't had to pick one up yet. Where a koala is "bitey", it's recommended that you enjoy it with water crackers and a slice of cabanossi... just kidding! With the bitey ones you let them know you're coming as with the quiet variety, but you place a thick towel around their shoulders and arms and then place your arms under the towel edges to protect yourself from a potential bite as you lift them up. You should try to keep the dangling koala at arm's length and even swing them foward as it may craftily try to swing its legs backwards to grab you with its back claws. Bitey and scratchy! Also, koalas should never be picked up under the arms or around the ribs.

With even more tetchy koalas (the really "frightened" kind), a bag is used. Bagging is the primary means of securing koalas during a rescue. Although, Cheyne suggested that this is often best-case scenario; sometimes a rescuer has to use whatever means is at their disposal at the time. For example, if you suddenly need to stop a koala from escaping a yard -- say one that is scaling a fence, or in a rescue situation when a koala is descending a tree -- you can actually use your own body weight to pin the koala against the tree/fence. You use press down on its forehead to stop it climbing and call for assistance. This produces a fanciful picture in my head as I imagine myself discovered in some unlawful position, a frightened koala wedged between myself and a tree. Cheyne assures us: "It won't hurt them; it's better than letting them escape".

The bag used is made of canvas. Often the handler has to assess the situation to determine the angle of approach. The bag can be place over the head and brought back to the rump or can be slid from the rump up over the head; whatever method gets the koala in the bag with the least amount difficulty and stress for both animal and human is best. Oh, and once the koala is in the bag, it generally pees straight away (which is exactly what Treetop Boxer did when he was first transferred outside, prior to his release). If the koala is being brought into ICU for treatment, it's best to know which 'end' they need. Sometimes it's the bottom for an injection or the top for feeding. Either way, it's best to try to keep the rest of the koala in the bag (it's less stressful for them) and expose only the end requiring jabbing or feeding.

Cheyne & Ocean Therese
From koalawrangler's gallery.

At this point, Ocean Therese decides to wander over to see what was happening (or more likely to see if Cheyne has any formula for her). Cheyne mock-rouses on her then plucks her off the gunyah and proceeds to hold her in such an expert yet cuddlesome way...show-off! :)

Next we look at what's involved in a rescue, when the koala is not right in front of you on the gunyah, but half a kilometre up a tree. We're using a fake koala, so no koalas were hurt or injured in the course of this rescue! The best scenario involves three handlers: two with poles and one with a bag to catch the koala at the other end. We each have a go at holding the pole. It's not enough to just hold it; you have to hold the full weight of it up above your head. "Imagine holding that up for twenty minutes, chasing a koala that's springing from branch to branch", says Cheyne. The healthy koalas are the hardest to catch.

Rescue training
From koalawrangler's gallery.

The pole resembles a paint roller. It has a flat end wrapped in a towel. This is used to press down on the koala's forehead like Cheyne showed us. Of course, that was on a koala immediately in front of us. In the reality of a rescue I can see how it would be like trying to use this huge pole to thread a needle. The two pole-wielders ease the koala down to the bagger at the bottom. But it's a mistake to think that a koala will just back into the bag; it will try to hightail it back up the tree as soon as it can. You need to place the bag over its head and manoeuvre its claws upward to disengage them from the trunk. Sounds so easy. Oh, and make sure you avoid thwacking powerlines with your pole. If the koala is too high, that's when to call in Country Energy to bring over a cherry-picker.

Cheyne also shows us how to 'pack' a koala. They use two washing baskets; one filled with rolled up towels and another for a lid. The koala is nestled into the basket and then covered with the other basket, which is tied on with bike cord. It's also important to cover the basket to prevent the koala from being further distressed. The last thing it needs after it has experienced trauma is staring human faces. This is especially true of joeys and victims of dog attacks or motor vehicle accidents (MVA). These koalas should also be handled a little differently; they should never be held up by the arms since they may have undergone a fracture or internal injuries. It's best to wrap these koalas up in a towel and pack them securely with a rolled up towel at each side. They should also be kept upright to keep their passageways clear in case of lung damage. Another type of koala to be aware of in rescue situations are those that are blind. They may run in circles in a disorientated fashion.

I noticed on the boards inside that all the aviary koala have been moved to the new small subdivisions in yard 10. At least they are outside now, except that this means they are without proper shelter. I go to see how they are faring. At least someone has erected a pot high on the middle vertical branch so that there is some shelter overhead. I'm happy for Macquarie Peter, who I've now seen progress from ICU to an aviary to the yards. The girls are out here too: Ellenborough Kelly and Newport Bridge Gloria. I also check on Elizabeth Noddy who wakes up to greet me.

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