Hedwig has been having adventures in the wild once again. A few years ago, Hedwig and Hermes were on the run for about a week https://lifeatspringrock.blogspot.com/2020/03/the-great-escape.html. When I say on the run, they didn’t run far. Basically, they barely left the house yard in all that time. I’d go outside to feed the chooks and look for my wayward galahs, and find them in a nearby tree or on the house or a shed roof. Hedwig would venture closer to have a chat and tell me of her adventures, but Hermes made sure she didn’t get too close. He’d shepherd her further up the tree or roof, in case I got ideas about grabbing them.
While Hermes is fit for life in the wild,
poor Hedwig isn’t. She sustained damage
to her wing and leg when she had the encounter with a car when very young. I nursed her back to health after the wildlife
rescue service chose not to take her on.
The advice they gave me was exactly where to hit her with a blunt
instrument to put her down. I objected
to this, so I was deputised to care for her.
Hermes was rescued from an encounter with a car a year later and he was
able to be restored to full health. I
intended for Hermes to be set free but, when the time came, Hermes refused to
leave Hedwig.
The escaped pair was eventually wrangled
back into their aviary. The stress
Hedwig had endured during the week of freedom was obvious. She had pulled out a large area of her breast
feathers and was a nervous wreck for a while.
After her week of freedom, which she definitely didn't enjoy, Hedwig has
decided that the caged life is the happy life for her and stays put.
On Sunday afternoon last week, Hedwig and Hermes were having a tantrum because some sparrows had made their way into the cage and were eating their seed. These tantrums are quite common and neither Hedwig nor Hermes deals with the sparrows themselves, despite being three times the sparrows' size. They prefer to screech and carry on until I arrive and sort out their problem for them. I must have been late to answer their call, because by the time I arrived to de-sparrow the aviary both galahs were in a snit.
As I entered the aviary, which is usually the signal for all sparrows to make a fast exit, sparrows flew everywhere. Most managed to escape, but two sparrows panicked and couldn't find their way out of the wire. I slightly opened the aviary door and escorted the two sparrows towards the opening. Hedwig, who was still screeching and flapping her wings, ended up flying out the door. Hedwig had no intention of leaving the aviary I'm sure; I can usually leave the door open and she will show no inclination to leave. Once out the door she did a U-turn and landed on the aviary roof, clearly wondering how she had got there. I think she'd got herself into a flap about the sparrows and ended up on the wrong side of the door without realising it.
I couldn't leave the cage door open for her to re-enter though because Hermes is all in favour on the wild bird life. While he has two strong wings and two strong legs, Hedwig doesn't and wouldn't survive long in the wild if he took her away from the house yard. As Hedwig alighted on the roof of the aviary, she proceeded to scold me for letting her escape. I did my best to try to see exactly where she was on the aviary roof, but I’m too short to see the whole roof. Hedwig had no intentions of coming quietly; she was in a temper and wanted everyone to know it. As I moved around the aviary trying to locate her, Hedwig continued to scold and grumble. Hermes moved to the perch closest to the sounds of Hedwig’s grumbling, but he couldn’t see her either and he became a bit flustered himself, offering me all sorts of advice to open the door and let him fly to Hedwig’s rescue. I called Graeme out for back up and found the Chinese Silkies' bag of sunflower seeds to use as a bribe.
My first attempt at bribery wasn't a
complete success. Hedwig sidled up to get to the seeds and munched away
happily. Her mood appeared to improve,
but on reflection I realise I was lulled into a false sense of security.
When I put the hand not holding the sunflower seeds up for her to step onto,
Hedwig remembered her temper tantrum and bit me. Graeme was ready there
and then to abandon Hedwig and let her live with the consequences. I'm made of sterner stuff, but Graeme's stern
voice and anti-Hedwig sentiments made Hedwig rethink her spot on the aviary
roof where she was easily reached by a six foot, cross Graeme. She flew
to the house roof. Landed awkwardly and couldn't
get her footing on the roof’s slope. She
slowly slid down the corrugated iron, scrabbling for purchase she couldn’t
find, and landed in the guttering. From this rather unusual vantage point,
she looked down on me with a superior air and tried to look like she’d intended
to roof ski all along.
"And that's why you aren't fit for
the wild world!" I told her. Hedwig agreed she wasn't keen on
the wild world either, but she was still cross. She flew back to the
aviary roof and moved down close enough for me to catch her. Hedwig
wasn’t admitting to her mistake though.
She chattered and scolded, demanding more sunflower seed, while
“accidentally” stopping within my reach.
As I took hold, Hedwig dug her beak into my hand and screeched all sorts
of insults at me. Graeme offered advice, such as to let her go, and
genuinely couldn't understand why I was still holding the nasty galah who had
her beak firmly sunk into my finger. I asked Graeme (through gritted
teeth) to go and stand by the cage door and open it when I finally got Hedwig
to the door.
The short trip to the aviary door was fraught. Hedwig was not going gently into that good night despite the fact I knew she really was sorry she was on the wrong side of the aviary door. She screeched around beak-fulls of my skin, tried to flap her wings and generally made the short trip both painful and noisy.
Hedwig was finally restored to the
aviary, cursing and screeching the whole time. My two hands were rather
mangled and she'd managed to draw blood in two places. Once she was
safely inside, Hermes, who had been watching the proceedings from the aviary
perch, came over to check his best friend for injuries. Hedwig’s bad mood prevailed and poor Hermes
received an earful of insults and accusations.
Hermes, who is used to dealing with Hedwig during her hormonal times,
knows the better part of valour is discretion.
He beat a strategic retreat and left Hedwig to her bad temper.
