Moving

Lucky moved into an aviary on the weekend.

He's got to the stage where he's recovered enough from his dermatitis and the stress of the Vetadine washes that he could be moved.





We kept and eye on him to make sure he wasn't stressing out, hence the pic of Donna holding the bowl up for him. Later on, Donna got in the aviary with him to check on him and he showed his appreciation by biting her and peeing down her back... twice.

All he needs now is to put on a bit more weight and get a bit more feral, and he'll be ready for release in a few weeks.

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We had another bird come into care on Sunday. BARN's rescue line got a call about a baby magpie that had been injured and there was no-one else in the area that could go and pick it up. Being a Sunday afternoon we'd already had a drink, so the person that had rung up was called back and they agreed to drop the magpie off at our place.

When it first arrived and I looked in the box, my first thought was that it wasn't a magpie. The colouring was wrong, it was too small and the beak was the wrong shape. That's no surprise though. BARN often get calls from people that have found injured owls that turn out to be tawny frogmouths. You can't expect people that aren't as interested in animals as we are to know everything about them. A bird is a bird.

Anyway, the bird had been attacked by other birds and had a lot of blood on its head and both eyes were closed. Our past experience with birds led us to think this one wasn't going to see the night through. That was Sunday, tonight is Wednesday, and as I sit in front of the tele watching House and typing this, the bird is still alive. The trouble is, she might well survive, but if she's blind she can't be released back into the wild she has to be euthenased, that's not only the law, it's the kindest thing for the bird in the long run.

Have I mentioned before that being a carer can be a bit frustrating? I still reckon it's rewarding though. There's something about tapping the side of the basket the bird is in, knowing it's going to think mum's arrived with food, then shoving grub down its gob before it realises it's you.