Galah background story. Casuarina and Grevillea, two mature females, came to us a few years ago when it became obvious they would never fly. Grevillea is a friendly soul who especially likes R. Otherwise the two girls were very close. Bonded, allo preening and even pseudo sex. Sad in a way as there aren't enough males to go around but they seemed happy enough. The relationship was steady and uneventful.
Fern has been with me for 8 or 9 years. She was my first permanent galah. She is an opinionated girl, does not like head scratches but quite likes being carried about and, strangely enough, 'laddering', when one hand is placed above the over while she climbs to a non-existent top. When Obama came, the last galah to arrive, and he matured, he and Fern became friends. Not lovers, just friends although I did see some mutual preening going on.
All seemed well until last week. I'd noticed some friction amongst the birds but as squabbles occur on a regular basis I hadn't given it much thought. Then one morning I heard cries from the aviary. They were angry screams threaded with a kind of moaning. When I went out I saw that Casuarina and Obama had bloody right legs. It looked as though they had had each other in a galah style wrestling grip which neither was willing to break to the point where they'd ringbarked each other's leg..
Although the wounds looked about the same in severity, by galah rules Casuarina had won. She has forsaken Grevillea in favour of Fern. Obama is hunted away from Fern when he tries to come near. Fern doesn't dislike Casuarina but she isn't impressed either. Fern is heterosexual. For years she carried a torch for Marvin, who because of his aggressiveness lives in his own aviary, but Marvin met her with advances with attack. Grevillea seems nonplussed by the change in galah dynamics. Obama is sad and Fern philosophical. Casuarina is relentless.
Casuarina has always looked rather frowsy. She's the one that lays eggs every year and is the first to come down with coccidiosis in the summer. This latest imbroglio has not improved her appearance except when she's on the hunt and her feathers are slicked in anger. She has taken an active dislike to me and attacks if given a chance. I came very close to removing her from the aviary and putting her in a cocky cage (the only available housing as I have no empty aviaries) but as Obama is alert and stays out of her way I've been able to avoid that extreme measure.
Yesterday Radar disappeared sometime before 9am. I didn't worry too much as after he'd exhausted himself and torn his pads hunting wallaby he'd come home sheepish and limping. Except he didn't. Two hours went by. I put a leash in my pocket and walked DGR hoping I'd meet him on the way. But no sign. Returned home, had a coffee and a snack then climbed Mt. Whitestone. Followed the new north south track below the summit. It was green and rich and quiet and just what I needed. I would've enjoyed it more if I hadn't been worried about Radar.
Two hours later I returned home to find R had found Radar in the creek at the bottom of the property. His left foreleg was swollen and scraped and has a ringbark purple bruise above the dew claw. His chest was bloody, blood dripped down his leg and he was very lame. But safe and relatively sound. We suspect he came a cropper amongst the rocks in the creek. Whippets travel so fast they leave their brains behind. And Radar, a hunter extraordinaire in his imagination, is the worst. He becomes completely unglued. So he's a sad and sorry dog this morning but he's eating well and the swelling has subsided a little.
Walking the dogs home a couple of days ago I saw what I first thought to be an owl hanging upside down in a dense thicket of cats claw creeper. It flew off, somewhat nonchalantly considering our proximity, and started to tear at its feet. I thought perhaps it had string tangled around its legs. I brought the dogs home and returned with a pair of binoculars. The bird wasn't frightened of me and continued tearing at its feet. But it didn't have string wrapped around its legs. It was eating a small bird. I looked the bird up and discovered it was a silent hunter of small birds in forested areas, the Collared Sparrowhawk. Something had killed and dismembered a bar shouldered dove right in front of the aviaries the day before while we were walking the dogs. It may have been the same bird. I saw him again yesterday. The galahs are nervous.
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