Poor Coastlands Steve!

My heart really went out to Coastlands Steve today. Firstly, it’s the second time he’s been in that, that I’m aware of. Last time, he was hit by a car and spent considerable time in homecare under the watchful eye of Joyce. Now he's back in the Hospital again. And today, he was a bit out of sorts.

Coastlands Steve
From koalawrangler's gallery.

He was missing from his yard when Pete did his morning rounds. At first, he feared Steve had taken off into Macquarie Nature Reserve, but, no, he was much closer at hand. He had travelled from his own yard 1 to yard 3 just across the way.

Coastlands Steve
From koalawrangler's gallery.

Yard 3 is home to Amira Ruby, a gorgeous little female koala who delighted us with her placid demeanour and range of delightfully coloured bandages during her time in ICU.

Amira Ruby, in ICU From koalawrangler's gallery.

Amira Ruby, today From koalawrangler's gallery.

When Pete found Steve in Ruby's yard, Steve was looking a bit sorry for himself. He'd scraped a bit of 'bark' off his nose - possibly from colliding with the colourbond fence during his escape attempt. The fences are positioned at least 2 metres apart, since that is the maximum distance a koala can jump. However, it IS mating season again. I know this for sure as I heard our local wild koala, whom we've dubbed Bonky Bill, letting his mating call ring out through the neighbourhood for the first time this season. Spring is around the corner and so is mating.

Amira Ruby
From koalawrangler's gallery.

Perhaps Steve thought Amira Ruby looked like a bit of alright. Pete suspects that - although she looks like butter wouldn't melt in her mouth - Ruby probably put up a bit of a fight. So not only did Steve scrape his nose in the process, he also probably got a bit of biffo for his efforts when he got there.

Poor old Steve! No wonder he was looking a little sorry for himself this morning. So I made sure I picked him an EXTRA big fluffy bundle of leaf and decked his gunyah out like it was a Christmas tree.

I got to see loads of other koalas I didn't expect to today. Newport Bridge Gloria has been back in for a while, but as she's been sharing the expanses of yard 9 with Birthday Girl, I've barely seen her down on ground level.

Newport Bridge Gloria
From koalawrangler's gallery.

Today, she came down to visit and she looked just like I remembered her. We have a bit of a 'history', you see. I first encountered Gloria during her time on the University of Sydney research trials back in 2007. She made her way through the treatment, but had been in a number of other times since. During one particularly memorable visit, I made the brilliant decision to transfer Gloria from the ground to the gunyah to make it easier for a volunteer to feed her. It all went pear-shaped. She bit me...HARD...luckily connecting with my fingernail, or else she would probably have bit through my finger. And, worse still, I kind of, well, let her drop out of my grasp as the pain was just excruciating! Gloria was fine, she just sort of tumbled free and made her own way up on to the gunyah. Phew!

Newport Bridge Gloria
From koalawrangler's gallery.

Today, there were no such dramas fortunately. She looked keen to see me but I'm not deluding myself; it's only because she mistook my camera for a feed pot.





She followed me all over the place, to the point that I was concerned she might leap on me. Fortunately Peter arrived with a basket for transporting koalas. Gloria was to be released this morning! Peter showed he how koala handling was really done by effortlessly plucking Gloria off the gunyah and placing her in the basket.

Newport Bridge Gloria
From koalawrangler's gallery.

Gloria has been admitted 8 times already - most recently for motor vehicle accidents; fingers crossed she still has another life left.

Another koala I didn't expect to see today was Oxley Kaylee. Since having her rear left leg amputated, she has been doing marvelously well.

Oxley Kaylee
From koalawrangler's gallery.

I almost never see her down from her tree. Brooke had cleaned her yard and I set about preparing his leaf. Usually I spray the leaf before placing it in the pots. It's trickier having to juggle a bunch of leaf as you spray it, but it's preferable to showering the koala! In Kaylee's case, she was nowhere to be seen so I popped the last bunch in the pot and turned to fire up the hose. But in the time it took for me to turn around, there she was! She can get up quite a speed on only one back leg! It's incredible watching her thigh joint rotate under her fur as she moves about.



Another old friend is back in ICU. Lake Private was in with us back in 2007. He was found wandering about, disoriented, so he's back with us for a little R&R. Pete asked me to feed him and he lapped it up like he remembered it well. Hopefully, he will get some energy back after a little rest and TLC at the Hospital.

Lake Private
From koalawrangler's gallery.

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

Taking Nancy home

There has been a catalogue of koala machismo in the ICU, from dirt-tipping and horny grunting sounds to the pawing/chasing/foot-nibbling by that lothario Morrish Steven towards Emma, one of the other vollies. Now I'm convinced he's Jim Morrison's koala reincarnation.

Ellenborough Nancy
From koalawrangler's gallery.

I scan the whiteboard to get a quick feel for the lay of the land: who's moved, who's been shipped out. I see a note next to Ocean Therese's name. Her transfer to the Walkabout Wildlife Sanctuary at Calga (near Gosford) has been approved. No! I knew it was coming but how I will miss that fuzzy little face around here! I see from their website that she will have an ex-Koala Hospital companion in a fellow called Keith the koala, formerly known as Parklands Keith. He looks a nice chap, a bit like Wiruna Lucky (if that's his picture on the homepage). I can see a trip to Gosford some time in the future to visit our Therese.

There are FOUR koalas being released today! Three uni koalas from yard 10 -- Ellenborough Nancy, Ocean Roy and Oceanview Terry; as well as one KPS koala from ICU, Lake Private. Wow! I'm so glad for them. I remember when it was almost a full house in here a couple of months ago; now that mating season is over and we're heading into Winter, the koala traffic is due to slow down.

Ocean Roy
From koalawrangler's gallery.

I'm not assigned to yard 10 today, but I decide to head up there to say goodbye to Therese, Roy, Nancy and Terry. When I get up there, Therese is asleep and curled into a grey ball. Innes Tony, however, new transferee to yard 10, is wide awake and looking handsome on his lofty perch (in Sandfly Jye's old spot). It's like I'm seeing Tony in a whole new light -- literally. Whenever koalas are transferred from the ICU or aviaries into the yards, they take on a more vivid aspect. They're also generally further along in their recuperation so, coupled with the warm morning light, they positively beam when they're out here. Today is a bit grey and rain is threatening, but Tony looks proud of his new digs. Ocean Roy is on the lookout for any activity from the yard.

Joey mess
From koalawrangler's gallery.

I've been assigned the joeys and ICU. Being assigned the joeys doesn't necessarily mean ever seeing the joeys (except as fuzzy grey blobs clinging to their treetops). Today is not different; there's no sign of them, just their mess: the telltale evidence of their nocturnal leaf party. The choice tips are gnawed off the branches, the twigs are snapped in their stampede to fresh leaf, and the ground is covered in poo and half-chewed leaves. It's the koala equivalent of a bunch of kids leaving empty chip packets and half-drunk cans of cola on the floor of the rumpus room.

Indeed, it's like they're in training for the carry-on that we've been witnessing in the ICU lately. By yesterday morning, Morrish Steven had completely stripped the towels from his gunyah and torn the bark from the wood underneath. I'm reliably informed that Calwalla Bill and Lake Private did the same. Cheyne says she's been observing this behaviour in the ICU for a few days now and has finally put two and two together. For the last week or so, these boys have been sharing ICU with Oxley Nina, a girl koala... Three males sharing a confined space with one female means they've got something to prove about koala manhood.

If they were deer, they'd be locking antlers; if they were birds, they'd be puffing out their chest feathers; if they were gorillas, they'd be beating their chests; if they were stockbrokers, they'd be bragging about their big share portfolios. Yes, these boy koalas have been showing off to impress Nina. Big time. All this room-trashing behaviour is about proving to Oxley Nina which one of them is the big koala on campus. (Do they know she's *lowering my voice* with child?!). There has been a catalogue of koala machismo in the ICU, from dirt-tipping and horny grunting sounds to the pawing/chasing/foot-nibbling by that lothario Morrish Steven towards Emma, one of the other vollies. Now I'm convinced he's Jim Morrison's koala reincarnation.

Lake Private
From koalawrangler's gallery.

Since Nina was released, and it's boys-only in ICU, they've returned to their usual ball-scratching nonchalance. (It's true, they do that a lot). I look in on Morrish Steven and his unit is pristine; so is Bill's and Private's.

It's Lake Private's last morning with us before his release, so he gets a special goodbye feed. His last supper in captivity. I've never actually fed Private before and it's funny how koalas vary in their feeding manners. He's eager but gentle at the same time. I have a little trouble with the syringe (the black stopper keeps coming off in the tube and I have to replace it). Private waits patiently between squirts. All the while I'm feeding, Private is squeezing out poo pellets like a production line. Wow, now that's feeling at ease in your surroundings. I'm not sure how I should feel about it. Suddenly, he jolts away from the syringe as though something unexpected has happened; I look down -- now he's peeing. He's been taken surprise by his own peeing mechanism. We both wait until he finishes peeing and recommence feeding. Ah, to be an animal and have no responsibility for personal hygiene or social norms.

Morrish Steven, mid-yawn
From koalawrangler's gallery.

Since Private's being released today, I don't need to clean his unit until he's gone. Instead I start on Calwalla Bill. There are no issues, despite the "strike out" warning on his door. He moves when I need him to, following the leaf pot to where I've moved it down the clean end of the gunyah. I can see that Morrish Steven is much mellower as well. I have to feed Steven as well and he is notable for his good behaviour: no grabbing. He still reaches out towards me when there's a break in the formula flow, but it's not the swipey urgency I've seen him demonstrate before. I notice that he's given his syringe quite a serve in the past though. The nib is scarred where he's gnawed at it on his back teeth. But he's gotten better at feeding now; he doesn't try to draw the syringe into his mouth like he used to. I can hear him slurping the liquid in and then stopping to swallow. I stop the flow each time I hear him do that. After feeding, Steven is completely mellow, even cracking a yawn before settling down for snooze.

I have a brief chat with Peter while I'm out cutting leaf. He's heading to Ellenborough to release Ellenborough Nancy. I would dearly love to accompany him since I've never been on a release before. I've also had a bit to do with Nancy while she's been in here. I was convinced she didn't like me for a while, after she took a swipe at me one day in the aviaries. I've since learned not to take such behaviour to heart. (That's right: Linksy doesn't really love me and Ellenborough Nancy doesn't really hate me; we're just leaf purveyors or annoyances to them. It's nothing personal!) Because Nancy heralds from a very rural part of the Hastings (unlike Port where koalas and humans tend to cohabit), she struggled more than most with the confines necessary for her treatment. It was satisfying to see her moved from an enclosed aviary to an outside yard, now I'd like to see her returned to her real home in the wilds of Ellenborough.

I watch as Judy brings Nancy into the treatment room in a bag. You know it's her by the way she's squirming under the canvas. She's not a koala to take any kind of confinement lightly. Judy wants to give her a final weigh-in before her release, but Nancy won't settle in the bag. When she's put on the scales her head pokes out the top and the handlers have to do their best to contain her just long enough to get the reading. Judy removes her from the bag, bearing her towards her basket in the customary fashion by her forearms; all the while, Nancy's twisting her back legs wildly trying to catch her capturer with claws. Ellenborough Nancy is a basket-case to the very end. The sooner we get this wild thing back to her wilds, the better!

I ask Tracy and Chris if they wouldn't mind cleaning out the final unit in ICU -- Walcha Barbie's -- so that I can head off with Pete. They're happy to, so we head off to Ellenborough with Nancy soundless in her covered basket on the backseat. It's a 57km drive to Ellenborough. Up the Oxley Highway, the urbanisation of Port quickly retreats and we find ourselves amid towering trees. It's alternately sprinkling and raining steadily. Fortunately, Nancy's been getting used to the rain so the transition won't be as great for her as for, say, Lake Private, who's been warmly ensconced in an inside unit while at the hospital.

I've got a map drawn up my Cheyne showing where Nancy was originally found, which was near the Ellenborough police station. Pete and I wonder about how she was brought in; Pete conjectures that perhaps a copper rang it in. I imagine it went down something like this:

"Hello, koala hospital? We've got a really ornery koala here in the lock-up..."

If her antics in the avaries are anything to go by, I can imagine her rattling her metal cup along the bars with the best of them.


Ellenborough Nancy's new backyard
From koalawrangler's gallery.
As we approach Long Flat, the trees start to really soar and there's mist hanging down from the mountains like cobwebs. Clouds obscure the peaks. It's beginning to rain more heavily, but we're here now with a koala who's freedom is in sight.

Pete carries her basket towards a huge nicholii tree, a perennial koala favourite. We decide, however, that the trunk is a bit broad. Nancy's been used to gripping a narrow gunyah so we want to give her something a little easier to climb on her first day out. We move around the edge of the reserve, nearer a great density of trees and find the perfect tree. Pete strips off any loose bark that might get in her way. The tree's not too wide and has a low fork for Nancy's to nestle into. Here's how it went down:


It took her a few seconds to come to grips with her new surroundings (remember: she'd been in the dark in the back of a car for the last 45 minutes). Then, instead of climbing the tree we'd prepared earlier, she takes off out of the basket, scampers across the path and takes off up another tree. The's a tricky sheet of dangling bark she has to negotiate her way around, but we can see her arm muscles working. Watching her dig in with her claws reminds me somewhat of a rock-climber securing each precarious step with a spikey boot in the rockface. She looks like an old hand at it and I stand and watch her careful progress, ignoring the increasing rain. Nancy stops and peers down at me and Pete every once in a while. It's like she's saying, "Can I really stay here?".

By the time, we head back to the car, she's extraordinarily high up and perched in a sturdy tree fork. I'm shocked by how small she looks in her new, majestic and endless surrounds. She's like a tiny speck in the wilderness, which she's once more an organic part of. Good luck to you, Ellenborough Nancy!


Ellenborough Nancy in her new home
From koalawrangler's gallery.
Click here to view more of today's koala hospital snaps.

Introducing the new and improved Anna Bay Miles

With the new leaf in place, I may as well not even exist; I'm koala non grata. So perhaps what Cheyne's been saying all along really is true: Linksy doesn't actually love me for myself, but only for my eucalyptus! How crushing to be so used and brutally tossed aside by one so adorable. Linksy, you heart-breaker, love-taker.

Walcha Barbie
From koalawrangler's gallery.

I see from the noticeboard that Walcha Barbie has been moved from Barb's place to ICU. I go in to check on how she's settled in. There's a pot of leaf on the floor as well as in the usual bracket up higher. Despite her bandaged arm, she's just climbed up onto her gunyah from the ground. She looks just a like a bandaged bear; in fact, she could be a model for the koala on the official Koala Hospital T-shirt.

Across the hallway, I see that Morrish Steven has given his gunyah the disgruntled rockstar treatment again. He's managed to tear both towels off the middle of his gunyah, exposing the bare -- if a little gnawed -- wood. Innes Tony's empty unit suggests he's been shipped out or worse, but there's no word about that in the daybook. It turns how he's graduated to yard 10. Yay! Another koala on the road to recovery. I wonder how he's been enjoying the rain?

The boys (Jarrod & Paul) have put in a request to do yard 10, so I'm assigned the few front yards -- 3, 4 & 5. Kempsey is sleeping when I enter with her food. I remove the leaf pot nearest to her to give the tourists at the fence a gander while I feed her. She's getting better at it (or I am), less dribbles out although she's still got it all over her chin by the time she's done.


Links VTR
From koalawrangler's gallery.
While I'm feeding, I hear a scampering noise behind me. It's Linksy! He's perched on the tree in his yard, looking longingly towards Kempsey and me (and, more importantly, the food pot). I'm conscious of his interest the whole time I'm syphoning formula into Kempsey's mouth. Every time I turn to look behind me, there's Linksy, salivating, with an "I'll have what she's having" expression on his little face. Eventually he loses interest and ascends the tree to a higher branch; or he's being nonchalant -- we'll see what he's like as soon as fresh leaf is on offer.


Links VTR
From koalawrangler's gallery.
The leaf is ready to go early this morning so the yards get serviced according to the book; that is, I can finish feeding, raking, feeding, and leafing Kempsey's yard completely before proceeding to the next. While I'm at the leaf rack preparing today's branches, Links is overseeing my progress from his tree lookout. He seems almost ecstatic to see that it's finally his turn. He hightails it down the tree, peering towards me with interest. It's a race to get the leaf in the pot fast enough before Linksy is upon me, chomping apparatus at the ready.

With the new leaf in place, I may as well not even exist; I'm koala non grata. So perhaps what Cheyne's been saying all along really is true: Linksy doesn't actually love me for myself, but only for my eucalyptus! How crushing to be so used and brutally tossed aside by one so adorable. Linksy, you heart-breaker, love-taker. No longer of any use to him, he parks his tush on the gunyah and settles in for a good graze. I stare dejectedly at him for a few minutes, before shuffling away to the compost to empty Little Lord Linksleroy's poo bucket. At least I still have that honour. Sniff.

At the poo bin, I meet Chris who's involved in bush regeneration to ensure there will be plenty of koala food for years to come. He explains that, with a bit of chemical help, the koala poo breaks down nicely into soil and is returned to the earth to help grow more eucalypts. What a great little ecosystem.

Anna Bay Miles
From koalawrangler's gallery.

Next is the latest hospital success story, Anna Bay Miles. I'd noticed that Emma had been taking some great snaps of Anna Bay Miles, since he'd been moved outside. You'd never know to look at his left eye that he'd every had conjunctivitis. There's also a healthy grey colour seeping back into his fur. It was nice to spend some time with him today.

Unlike Lord Linksy, Miles slept through the leaf preparations for the other two yards. His food pot was in the treatment room as it has some medicine added by the hospital supervisor. Cheyne was pleased to report that his formula dose has been reduced by half and he no longer requires the nutritional gel supplement he's been on since arrival. He's starting to flesh out nicely, better filling the frame of the adult male that he is.

Anna Bay Miles
From koalawrangler's gallery.

I have to coax Miles awake, but when he comes to, he's very interested in the food. I'm astonished by the creamy grey colour of his facial fur and the glossy blackness of his nose. Like most koalas, he has a fuzzy pink chin and a pink tongue that darts in and out of his mouth while he feeds. He is an insistent feeder now, gripping the wide part of the syringe in his teeth (which is a no-no). I do my best to only dip the slim end of the syringe in his mouth, but it's like he wants to chew the whole thing up. He also dribbles some of back up, which I try to catch in the pot. Some of it lands on my hand; it's warm from his mouth. Didn't Miles attend Cheyne's koala-feeding class? hey, wait a minute, he was actually the "demonstration koala" who fed so compliantly! What's happened!?) Despite flouting all the feeding rules, it's great to see him being so pushy now, after his former passivity.

As soon as the food's finished, Miles returns to his sleeping cocoon-shape. Unfortunately, I still need to disrupt him a little in order to replenish his leaf pots. He's wedged himself between a pot and a gunyah beam; I have to dislodge the pot from behind his back, but he manages to remain in his curled up position. Replacing the pot is another story; this elicits a little grunt as he shuffles off down the other end of the gunyah for some peace and quiet.

He goes to climb through the other leaf pot, now filled with towering fresh leaf. In doing so, he puts his wait on a branch which promptly snaps. Miles loses his balance and dangles precariously, hanging onto the gunyah with his curved claws. His round bottom is swinging before me as he endeavours to clamber back on the gunyah. I cup my hands around it and give him a little supportive heave-ho until he finds purchase back on the gunyah. Funny little acrobat.

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

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.

Morrish Steven

On the way out I'm joined by Jim who tells me "I got chased by Sandfly Jye today". Tell me about it. One of the other vollies got Jim on video doing circuits around the gunyah with Jye in hot pursuit. If the guy wins Funniest Home Videos, Jim reckons he's entitled to at least half.

Morrish Steven
From koalawrangler's gallery.

It's a dark, grey day today, after a dark and stormy night (as Snoopy says in Peanuts). It rained for a good 45 minutes during the night so the grounds are all wet; the aviaries sodden; and I can only imagine that there are some dripping koalas up in yard 10.

I start the day in ICU, something I haven't done in a long time. This is the koala cutting edge -- all the newest arrivals wind up in these indoor cubicles where they're closely monitored. Morrish Steven and Lake Private are new inmates. Anna Bay Miles, Jupiter Cheryl and Innes Tony are still there. Innes Tony is a wet bottom, now with affected kidneys.

Tozer Tom has been brought back inside from yard 10. He kept knocking over his umbrella so they removed it, but he was getting drenched being out there without cover. He's asleep when I go in with his food. I draw up a stool and start talking to him gently. I tentatively push the syringe through the leaf towards his mouth and he starts to drink. I wonder whether he is really awake; every time I pause to refill the syringe, he bows his head and nods off.

I set out to start on the non-wet-bottom units before the wet-bottom ones. Lake Private has climbed down to the lower beam on his gunyah to get to his leaf. I decide to leave him to it and start down the other end.

Morrish Steven, a newcomer, looks at me with interest as I enter his unit. He's got a shiny grey tick on his left hind leg, right where his upper claws are dangling. I don't want to risk a swipe if I go to pluck it off front-on. Hopefully, he'll turn into his leaf more and provide me with a better opportunity. He's clearly been climbing up and down his gunyah, since there is a lot of bark shavings on the ground and the gunyah looks dishevelled.

Both of his leaf pots look like they've been trampled. Most of the branches are snapped and dangling over the edge of the leaf pot, out of reach. I collect the best leaf and trim it back and water it, before refilling his pot. He starts chewing the leaf eagerly like it's fresh. That will tide him over until the new stuff arrives. For some reason, there's no water or dirt, which I also fix. Steven turns towards the old-fresh leaf and I act fast: it takes two firm tugs to release the tick. It's not a full one, by any means, so it fits into one of the small phial in the dayroom.

Jupiter Cheryl
From koalawrangler's gallery.

Next I service Jupiter Cheryl's unit. She's perched in the middle of her gunyah, just looking out. Emma and Danae are working on the other units. I pop my head in Anna Bay Miles' unit. He's not a well koala. He keeps gnawing at his own knee. I'm not sue what that signifies. He's still around, which is good; but, I'm not sure for how long.

Anna Bay Miles
From koalawrangler's gallery.

I head outside to see if John needs help in the aviaries. He's still got Ellenborough Nancy to do. I'm drawn to her for some reason; she's a challenge. It all goes well this morning. I replace her towel down one end and am able to pat her bottom to shift her down the other end. She then decides to climb down and range around the floor. She doesn't seem too interested in me, although I keep an eye on her. I swiftly tie down the other towel in time for her to return to the gunyah. The floor is sodden after the rain; her newspaper is dripping wet and full of poop. I scoop it all up and lay new paper down thickly.

When the new leaf arrives, I help John finish the aviaries. Sweet little Condon Geoff tucks into the tallowwood leaf immediately. He's out here on post-treatment observation. Hopefully that means he'll be released soon.

Siren Gem
From koalawrangler's gallery.

The girls have finished the ICU by this time. Emma has managed to catch Siren Gem down from his tree and is feeding him his formula. I sneak a little pat while he's distracted with feeding, before heading home.

On the way out I'm joined by Jim who tells me "I got chased by Sandfly Jye today". Tell me about it. One of the other vollies got Jim on video doing circuits around the gunyah with Jye in hot pursuit. If the guy wins Funniest Home Videos, Jim reckons he's entitled to at least half.

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