Showing posts with label Ocean Kim. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ocean Kim. Show all posts

Thursday, 21 February 2008

Get out the rusks, the play pen and the bassinet... the joey yard is full again!

Settlers Inn Casey (L), William Krystal (C) & One Mile Beach Noah (R)
Settlers Inn Casey (L), William Krystal (C) & One Mile Beach Noah (R)
From koalawrangler's gallery.

Up until August 2007, the hospital had been aflush with joeys; there were always one or two little orphans being left to grow and build up their "koala skills" in the safe environment of yard 6, pending release. Lady Nelson Woody, Belah Irwin and Oxley Lucky were residents in the joey yard when I started back in January 2007, soon to be joined by the delightfully frisky Links VTR and Ocean Kim and, later, the more demure joeys, Lake Christmas and Siren Gem.

But since Christmas and Kimmy were released in August last year, there had been a dearth of joeys at the hospital, leaving we poor vollies without a single joey to gawp at. Visitors and volunteers alike always like to see the babies, but it seemed that the joeys had "dried up" for a few months.

Then October came (the busiest month for admissions to the hospital). One joey arrived, then another, then two more! Lo and behold, the nursery yard was full again!

Settlers Inn Casey (more pics here)
The first joey to grace us was Casey, who was reported to the hospital by patrons of the Settlers Inn Tavern in October 2007. They had observed Casey in a palm tree near the beer garden and thought she looked a bit young to be out on her own. At only 2.4kg, Casey had probably been orphaned or just recently abandoned by her mother. Casey was found to be in great physical shape and so seemed to be managing well enough on her own...for now. She was near a busy road with quite a bit of unkoala-friendly construction going on nearby.

Generally, when a joey is about 12-18 months of age, the mother leaves the juvenile to make their own way in the world, but typically keeps a watchful eye from a nearby tree to see that the youngster is doing okay. We decided she would be better off placed in the joey yard where we could keep an eye on her progress. After a week or so she was found to be infested with ticks, which can cause anaemia if not attended to. Casey was then regularly checked for ticks and returned to her tree...this time with a squirt of the tick repellent usually used on dogs.

Oxley Holly (more pics here)
Casey was on her own for a few months when, in early January 2007, she was joined by Oxley Holly. We had received the startling report that a koala was walking along the busy Oxley Highway near the local high school with a joey riding on her back! Even more surprisingly, the koala was Oxley Westi, a koala who had come 11 months earlier with abnormally protruding eyes. At the time, it was suspected that she might also be carrying a pinkie - an unfurred joey. Westi's appearance now with joey in tow, proved this to have been the case. Oxley Holly was a healthy female joey weighing in at 2.25kg. Unfortunately, Westi was now completely blind and had to be euthanased. So Holly joined Casey in yard 6, like her, to grow in a safe environment before she can be released.

William Krystal (more pics here)
Less than two weeks later, another joey was admitted in rather interesting circumstances. A gentleman was leaving the pub one Saturday evening when he noticed, to his surprise, a small koala waiting at the lights on William Street in downtown Port Macquarie. The lights changed and apparently this young koala set off across the road. The gentlemen gathered up the joey and proceeded to cuddle her for the next two hours (don't try this at home!) before contacting the hospital. Krystal was likewise in fine condition, weighing 2.67kg, and joined the other two girls in yard 6.

One Mile Beach Noah (more pics here)
Finally the three girls were joined by a 2.7kg male joey transferred to us from our friends at the Native Animal Trust Fund in Newcastle. Noah's mother was hit by a car on Gan Gan Road in the precinct of Anna Bay, while Noah himself was rescued unharmed from nearby One Mile Beach. Although Noah had been well cared for in homecare, the NATF did not have the facilities to care for a growing joey. Like the rest of our brood, Noah just needs to finish his weigh gain, get climbing practice, and dehumanise prior to release.

Like any growing children, the joeys are currently eating the hospital out of house and home! Casey and Holly were initially sharing one bundle of leaf which is usually sufficient for one adult koala. When the other two joeys arrived, this was doubled to two bundles. In the mornings, the leaf pots would be stripped of their leaf, the tops mown down down by hungry joey jaws overnight. Recently, a small gunyah extension was erected in yard 6 to facilite the placement of extra leaf-pots to satisfy the appetites of these growing youngsters.

But who's who in the zoo? (which joey is which?)
The joeys are surprisingly easy to tell apart when you know what to look for. Noah has a soft sleepy look about him and his ears are less round and perky. But telling Noah from the three girls is easier than comparing ear shapes - the girls each have a green tag in their right ear, whereas Noah has no tag (he will be tagged in his left ear before release). If you get close enough you an also see that Noah has little furry testicles emerging.

Where the girls are concerned, it's a question of noses. Casey's nose is broader at the top than the base, while Holly has just the opposite - a broad base and narrower top. William Krystal's nose is narrower than both the the other girls and maintains a generally uniform width at top and bottom. Krystal also has pale grey fur, lighter than the other joeys. You can see what I mean in the pics below:

Oxley Holly
Nose bottom-heavy
Oxley Holly
From koalawrangler's gallery.


William Krystal
Nose uniformly narrow
William Krystal
From koalawrangler's gallery.

Aw, joeys...bless them!

Friday, 17 August 2007

Joey news

The departure of our star attraction, Anna Bay Sooty and her little "Smudge", has left an gap in the joey department here at the koala hospital. Of course, we still have the beautiful Ocean Kim in residence. Kimmy has spent most of her young life at the hospital, since her Mum was hit by a car when she was still a pouch-borne joey. Once Kimmy has put on enough weight she will be released. In the meantime, she is always eager for fresh leaf, and will often scamper down to the gunyah and wait for its arrival.

She shares yard 6 with a much more reclusive joey, Lake Christmas, who barely ever makes it to planet earth. He was a bit older than Kimmy when she came in, so she had more wildness in her. She was happier in the higher branches and tended not to sit waiting for her tucker.

So when Kimmy bolted down to the gunyah the other day, I was busy chatting away to her, saying Kimmy-this, Kimmy-that, when I realised that she didn't have that telltale single white eyebrow poking out over her right eye (which gives her a slightly mad look). All the while I thought I was talking to Kimmy, I was actually in the presence of the Yeti-like Lake Christmas!

We've got a koala mum, Bellangry Niky, and her joey currently recuperating in homecare with Joyce, the experienced carer who tended to Ocean Kim's Mum, Ocean Therese when she first came to us.

We also have a tiny joey called Tinkerbell who, at 145 grams, was malnourished when she came to us and is getting round-the-clock TLC from another of our expert homecarers.

There have been some fascinating developments on the Anna Bay Lil front, a joey brought in during the week. When admitted, s/he was initially labelled female but her genitals were ambiguous; s/he appeared to have underdeveloped testes, so more tests were made to identify this little koala's biological sex. The results have now confirmed that Lil is intersex, that is, s/he presents both male and female sexual characteristics, a condition that occurs infrequently in both animals and human beings. So Anna Bay Lil is now Anna Bay Lilly Billy and has moved from ICU to take pride of place in sunsoaked yard 9a.

It was hoped that we would be able to keep Anna Bay Lilly Billy here at the hospital. Intersex koalas have seldom been documented, so it would have added greatly to our koala knowledge to be able to monitor her/his progress as Lilly Billy matures and develops. It would also be fascinating to witness his/her behaviour with male and female koalas. However, the powers that be have decided that s/he is to be released back into the wild, despite his/her inability to breed.

Sunday, 15 April 2007

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.

Ocean Kim and Links VTR (obscured)

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

Ocean Kim and Links VTR (obscured)

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
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.

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?

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.

Sunday, 8 April 2007

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
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.

Jim, Peter & Oceanview Terry
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.

Sunday, 1 April 2007

Joey paparazzi

I can't watch this precarious manoeuvring. It looks so unsteady, yet it's really no different to how a koala behaves in a tree, a fluffy ball swinging from branch to branch like monkey. Waggling his bottom from side to side, he reaches the other edge of the roof and returns safely to his gunyah. I feel like I've just watched a private performance of Koala du Soleil.
Koala sign on Pacific Drive
Koala sign on Pacific Drive
From koalawrangler's gallery.

It's a gorgeous day today in koalaville, unlike this time last week when the koalas and the koalawranglers all ended up like a drowned rats. It's the Ironman Triathlon today so my road's closed. This means walking 25 minutes to where I parked my car last night. It's a beautiful day for a walk so I don't mind.

There are two new bods at the hospital today: Scottish Chris and American Tracy, international vollies newly arrived from Scotland. It's a good thing they're here as we're down a couple of people. They're trailing after John in the aviaries, learning the ropes. The fewer numbers means I've got Cathie Sampson, Oxley Westi, Kempsey Carolina and the joeys in yard 6. Only Kempsey gets fed, so I begin with her. She defies the recent feeding refresher training we had: she keeps moving the syringe to the front of her mouth where she can get a hold of it with her teeth. I manoeuvre in out of the way to prevent her fanging it too much and snapping off the tip. There's minimal spillage today. Tracy comes into the yard to feel how soft Kempsey's fur is. Like Ocean Therese, Kempsey condones a good pat and a scratch; something you wouldn't want to try on the more koala-like koalas, say, Ellenborough Nancy or Calwalla Bill.


Links VTR
From koalawrangler's gallery.
As I'm trimming Kempsey's recycled leaf, Chris (one of the leaf-collectors) pops by. He asks if Kempsey liked the <insert exotic leaf name here> he got her yesterday. It was something like a spotty, lemon-scented, stringy-barked peppermint gum...either way, it made me realise how truly narrow my leafing skills are. Chris speaks 'leaf' fluently, while for me it's still a second language.

John takes Chris and Tracy into the joeys' yard, probably to show them the routine in a regular yard, before they get stuck into the aviaries. I see that Emma has arrived and pop into yard 9 to say hi. She's feeding Lucky Wiruna. I go and check on the babies. Links VTR is on his gunyah but scales down to greet me, peering up at me at the gate. "Leaf please!".

Cathie Sampson
Cathie Sampson
From koalawrangler's gallery.

Over in Cathie Sampson's yard, he's surprisingly frisky. He makes his way down to his gunyah's cross-beams and jumps to the ground as I'm scrubbing out one of his leaf pots. He's not like O'Briens Fiona who comes begging for formula, or like Sandfly Jye who'll chase you round the yard. He's just snuffling around the yard because he's unable to locate fresh leaf. He pauses to look up at me, does a perimeter check, then returns to his gunyah. But he doesn't stop there: he climbs one of the inner supports of his shelter out to its far edge, shimmying horizontally, while backwards and upside down. I can't watch this precarious manoeuvring. It looks so unsteady, yet it's really no different to how a koala behaves in a tree, a fluffy ball swinging from branch to branch like monkey. You'd also never believe that fragile tree forks could support them at 60 metres, but they do. Waggling his bottom from side to side, he reaches the other edge of the roof and returns safely to his gunyah. I feel like I've just watched a private performance of Koala du Soleil.

Oxley Westi
Oxley Westi
From koalawrangler's gallery.
I decide to get Sampson his leaf first, before Kempsey, and even before I clean Oxley Westi's yard. Anything to keep Sampson gunyah-bound. Westi is also mobile. I see a fuzzy blur out of the corner of my eye as I pass through her yard with Sampson's wet leaf. She doesn't make for the gate though. I quickly rake up Westi's prodigious scattering of poop, cut her leaf and return to Kempsey. Both girls have been waiting patiently. I also cut leaf for the joeys before ducking my head into the aviaries. Barb's hubby, Geoff tugs on the back of my smock as he passes me at the leaf rack: "you're supposed to wet the leaf", referring to how wet and muddy my smock is. It's a gift.

There is a new occupant in the aviaries, FiFi Houdini, otherwise known as O'Briens Fiona. She didn't last three days in the yard 10 enclosure. Ocean Therese wasn't a calming enough influence on her: Fiona kept making her way into the main part of yard 10 (and making off with Tractive Golfer's leaf). To prevent her hurting herself or escaping the hospital altogether, she's now been placed in an aviary. She's being "dehumanised", so no handling or formula; hopefully, she'll be released soon. We're terribly fond of her though; her wiley ways and delightfully pushy personality have made her a favourite. I remember when I first encountered her back in ICU. The FiFi Houdini paw-hooking manoeuvre has not changed:

Exhibit AExhibit B
O'Briens FionaO'Briens Fiona
ICU: 25 JanAviaries: 1 April

She's still getting the best of care. Once I prepare her new leaf, she returns to her gunyah and settles in for a feed. I notice a shiny, round object at the far corner of her aviary amongst the poo pellets. As I suspect, it's a nice full tick. I pocket it to process later. Tracy is standing outside Ellenborough Nancy's aviary while John cleans it. With macabre delight, I call her over to reveal my find. It's a part of koalawrangling you just have to get used to. Her reactions are just as mine were when I first encountered a well-indulged tick: squeamish discomfort.

Together we consider it in my palm; its struggling legs indicating it's still alive after vampirically feasting on poor little O'Briens Fiona. I return the wriggling thing to my pocket and finish sweeping her poop and laying down paper. She's settled back in her leaf now, calmly watching me as I work around her.

On a trip to the leaf rack, I see Robyn entering yard 9 with a towel. She's collecting Ocean Kim, the female joey from yard 9A, to pop her on the scales in the treatment room. The koalas are weighed from time to time to ensure they are not losing weight (or are gaining it, if that's the objective). As Robyn approaches, Kimmy aloft on her shoulder, Emma and I whip out our cameras. "Paparazzi", I mutter.

Ocean Kim
Ocean Kim
From koalawrangler's gallery.

Kimmy has her paw splayed on Robyn's back like a set of furry fingers. At such close range, I also notice that Kimmy has a single white eyebrow jutting out from above her right eye. Together with her impossibly fluffy ears, it makes her look wacky and dishevelled in the cutest way. She moves her head from side to side, likes she's curious about her vantage point from this newly mobile tree. Barb is there and I remark at how much Kimmy resembles her mum, Ocean Therese.

Barb fills me in on Walcha Barbie's progress after Friday's appointment with the vet. They've cleaned up the dead skin on Barbie's arm. Unfortunately they also had to remove one of her fingers due to gangrene, but this shouldn't affect her ability to climb. At least now her arm will continue to heal. Barbie's disposition is energetic; she seems to be well on the way to recovery.

Back in the dayroom, I ask Chris and Tracy whether they can to watch me write up the tick I found. From what I understand of the matter, ticks don't bother koalas like they do dogs and cats. Robyn's washing up the feed pots and explains that ticks can still result in anaemia if a koala gets a lot of them. Emma chimes in that she found 18 ticks in one go on Kempsey Carolina once.

Before I leave, we take a stroll around yard 10 to visiti the koalas up there. Tracy and Chris come along to meet them. Emma joins us to take some photos. Robyn goes into Ocean Therese's yard and gives her a neck scratch. There are plans to move Therese to a wildlife park, since it's unlikely she'd survive in the wild. We'll really miss her eager little face.

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

Friday, 16 March 2007

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
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
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
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.

Links VTR & Barb
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.

Sunday, 25 February 2007

Building up Fiona's strength

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

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

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

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

Wiruna Lucky

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

Ocean Kim & Links VTR

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

Tozer Tom

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

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

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

Thursday, 22 February 2007

Fiona's great escape

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Birthday Bill is a very naughty boy!

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

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

Thursday, 15 February 2007

Ocean Therese and Tractive Golfer

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

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

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

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

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

Ocean Therese
Ocean Therese
From koalawrangler's gallery.

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

>Ocean Therese
Ocean Therese
From koalawrangler's gallery.

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

Ocean Therese

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

"She's probably hot", suggests Yasmin.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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