Wildlife Rescue

Last weekend I noticed the two white plumed honeyeaters flying around the dense creeper on the wall of our apartment block. I had been aware of them for the past week or so, as we only occasionally see native species in this inner suburban setting.

But their behaviour was strange:

they kept flying from the creeper to the nearest tree and back and calling noisily. Then I heard the loud chirping noise coming from the creeper. Their nest was there, skilfully woven into the shrubbery. And next to the nest was the baby bird, sitting, waiting. He seemed fat, bloated and I wondered if he was blind. Now, the parents’ behaviour became evident: they were distressed. Why was their offspring not spreading his wings and flying out of the nest, following them into the trees at the other end of the concrete yard? It was time, it was overdue.

A few hours later, my neighbour from downstairs decided to take a closer look. He discovered that the baby bird’s foot was entangled into the side of the nest. He extricated it, but the leg was badly damaged and there was thread inextricably wound around the little claws. He must have been trapped like that for days. We put it back into the nest but soon it was on the ground, easy prey to anything. The parents continued to minister to it, trying to encourage it to fly and chasing off curious blackbirds. (By now Bobby Gatto was confined to house arrest). Fortunately, the little bird was well camouflaged in the dirt of the garden bed.

In the early morning the chirping resumed. Although I had said to my neighbour yesterday “we mustn’t get emotionally involved, there is nothing we can do”, I thought I must do something, so I rang Wildlife Rescue. Fortunately, they answered the phone at 7.30am. The lady said she would send a volunteer, who would assess the bird. They would attempt to heal it and if successful they would return it. She told me the parents would wait for two weeks.

Well, a young man, no older than twenty, arrived after midday and took the little bird away. He said the prognosis was not good.

I have not seen the plucky little white plumed honeyeaters again. Perhaps they are still around. This week is bird week and I have voted for them in the Birdlife Australia’s Favourite bird survey. And I have donated online to Wildlife Victoria. But I am emotionally involved.