Watching this determined little bird teach herself to fly brought unexpected delight.
By Etsuko Yasunaga
OUR first encounter with the magpie was hostile. At that time we knew a pair of little wattlebirds had built a nest in one of the trees in our back garden, and the parents were busy taking turns incubating eggs. Suddenly a juvenile magpie appeared out of nowhere, and walked towards the bottom of the tree where the nest was. Both mum and dad wattlebirds were obviously agitated and tried hard to deter this magpie. We were also on their side, and naturally tried to intervene to save wattlebird’s eggs.
OUR first encounter with the magpie was hostile. At that time we knew a pair of little wattlebirds had built a nest in one of the trees in our back garden, and the parents were busy taking turns incubating eggs. Suddenly a juvenile magpie appeared out of nowhere, and walked towards the bottom of the tree where the nest was. Both mum and dad wattlebirds were obviously agitated and tried hard to deter this magpie. We were also on their side, and naturally tried to intervene to save wattlebird’s eggs.
No matter how hard we tried to deter the magpie, it persistently came back. We noticed the magpie had an awkward gait. Frustrated, Rob got a garden hose out and used the jet setting to aim near the bird. Of course he had no intension of injuring the bird but desperately wanted to separate it from the eggs. The magpie escaped to the side of the house but it was cornered as the side gate was shut. When we approached, it became agitated and sneaked through again to the back yard. We noticed the bird couldn’t fly properly either. In the end we blocked the gate entry to the garden, segregating the magpie at the other side of the house, near the laundry. We also hung a garden net from the washing line so the magpie couldn’t go near the nest. Peace was restored and soon after I heard the squealing sound of fledglings’ begging calls while I was in the garden.
Because the magpie was injured Rob rang Linda from Bunurong Wildlife Care, asking for advice on what we could do. She came around to our place and quickly assessed why the magpie wasn’t flying. She had broken tail feathers which were crucial for flying. Linda said it was maybe due to an accident, run over by a car. For this magpie to survive, the damaged tail feathers needed to be pulled out so the new feathers could grow. Linda took the bird away and organised surgery with a vet.
Magpies are territorial birds. When the bird came back after a week or so, she was released in our front garden because that’s where Linda took he from. It was miserable wet weather and the magpie went under a bush to shelter. All fluffed up for keeping warm in the cold rain, its prospects were grim. Linda said the bird might not survive. We decided to call her Maggie and made a pledge to nurse her to full recovery.
By then, I had stopped hearing the calls of fledglings. When I checked the nest it was empty. We were sad for the loss of fledglings, possibly taken by a butcher bird, but it meant that Maggie had the whole back garden to herself. We provided a tray of fresh water under the shade of trees. Maggie was pleasingly tucking into a few earth worms that I dug from the compost bins. We fed her fruits, a tiny portion of a boiled egg, softened dog pellets and occasional raw, lean meat. Maggie was especially fond of boiled eggs. It was delightful to see her enjoying whatever we gave her.
In the early days Rob went overboard with feeding her once and ended up giving her a whole boiled egg instead of a finely chopped one quarter of an egg. Maggie couldn’t move for a while, digesting the big feed that she just scoffed. In general we made sure we didn’t over-feed her because we wanted her to be independent once she went back to the wild.
Her tail feathers gradually grew back and she became more active and mobile day by day. However a gang of three or four male magpies kept on attacking her whenever opportunities arose. Maggie was clearly defenceless in those attacks and couldn’t fend them off. Whenever we heard the squawks we shushed the gang away to protect Maggie. Once, I was alarmed to see a flight feather was left on the scene.
Because the magpie was injured Rob rang Linda from Bunurong Wildlife Care, asking for advice on what we could do. She came around to our place and quickly assessed why the magpie wasn’t flying. She had broken tail feathers which were crucial for flying. Linda said it was maybe due to an accident, run over by a car. For this magpie to survive, the damaged tail feathers needed to be pulled out so the new feathers could grow. Linda took the bird away and organised surgery with a vet.
Magpies are territorial birds. When the bird came back after a week or so, she was released in our front garden because that’s where Linda took he from. It was miserable wet weather and the magpie went under a bush to shelter. All fluffed up for keeping warm in the cold rain, its prospects were grim. Linda said the bird might not survive. We decided to call her Maggie and made a pledge to nurse her to full recovery.
By then, I had stopped hearing the calls of fledglings. When I checked the nest it was empty. We were sad for the loss of fledglings, possibly taken by a butcher bird, but it meant that Maggie had the whole back garden to herself. We provided a tray of fresh water under the shade of trees. Maggie was pleasingly tucking into a few earth worms that I dug from the compost bins. We fed her fruits, a tiny portion of a boiled egg, softened dog pellets and occasional raw, lean meat. Maggie was especially fond of boiled eggs. It was delightful to see her enjoying whatever we gave her.
In the early days Rob went overboard with feeding her once and ended up giving her a whole boiled egg instead of a finely chopped one quarter of an egg. Maggie couldn’t move for a while, digesting the big feed that she just scoffed. In general we made sure we didn’t over-feed her because we wanted her to be independent once she went back to the wild.
Her tail feathers gradually grew back and she became more active and mobile day by day. However a gang of three or four male magpies kept on attacking her whenever opportunities arose. Maggie was clearly defenceless in those attacks and couldn’t fend them off. Whenever we heard the squawks we shushed the gang away to protect Maggie. Once, I was alarmed to see a flight feather was left on the scene.
Maggie was like a little child who had found a little trick to delight its parents. |
One evening, Maggie suddenly started practising flying. She walked on to the deck then jumped on to the arm of a chair then flew to the lawn a few metres away. Then she came back and repeated it all over again. We saw her do that about thirty times in a row.
Sometimes she came back to the arm of the bench which was a little further up. Again she repeated the whole process over and over. Maggie was like a little child who had found a little trick to delight its parents. “That was fun. Can I do it again?” Rob and I sat in the sofa watched her practise flying a short distance away in the safety of our back yard until the dusk set in. It was a fleeting moment never to be repeated again, and I’m glad we shared the moment with Maggie.
While nursing her wounds, she often went on a walkabout but usually came back. Ultimately she disappeared into the wild and we didn’t see her for quite some time. We missed her presence in our life immensely: the awkward little footsteps on the deck getting excited about food, the way she drank fresh water, the soft call she made when she was content. I missed seeing her gently perched on the arm of the bench all fluffed up when she slept.
Can you imagine our delight when she came back to say hello? She looked well. She looked healthy. She wasn’t just surviving, she was thriving in the wild. She still had that awkward gait but she could fly freely. We gave her a slice of banana to welcome her back.
Maggie continues to pop in every now and then. She knows there is always fresh water at our back garden. She also knows that occasionally she gets a treat.
Whenever I look at our back garden, happy memories of Maggie are present. The world is a much better place for us because Maggie is in it. If such a little creature can better the world by simply living well, I wonder how much we can do to better our world.
While nursing her wounds, she often went on a walkabout but usually came back. Ultimately she disappeared into the wild and we didn’t see her for quite some time. We missed her presence in our life immensely: the awkward little footsteps on the deck getting excited about food, the way she drank fresh water, the soft call she made when she was content. I missed seeing her gently perched on the arm of the bench all fluffed up when she slept.
Can you imagine our delight when she came back to say hello? She looked well. She looked healthy. She wasn’t just surviving, she was thriving in the wild. She still had that awkward gait but she could fly freely. We gave her a slice of banana to welcome her back.
Maggie continues to pop in every now and then. She knows there is always fresh water at our back garden. She also knows that occasionally she gets a treat.
Whenever I look at our back garden, happy memories of Maggie are present. The world is a much better place for us because Maggie is in it. If such a little creature can better the world by simply living well, I wonder how much we can do to better our world.