Many eyes
Late November
More tails and eyes, since last we spoke, as the first year of Tiny but Wild prepares to draw to a close. Of those tails, four new joeys have joined the mix, filling the still-warm place of repaired Celeste, and the three who vacated before her, Linus, Lute, and Sylvie. And a little now six-week-old Grey-headed flying fox pup named Umi (who we initially dubbed Eric, before realising it didn’t quite suit him), bringing the number of nocturnals to neat double digits. In the middle of this, or, rather, because of this, our plans continue to brew to turn our first year Tiny but Wild shelter experience into our next limited edition artists’ book. With May, 2025’s Melbourne Art Book Fair in mind, Louise is thinking she’ll coptic-stitch bind the entire edition. This record of what was, is where we’ll start, and who knows how it will alter as things fall into place.
After 8-months in care, the last 47-days of which were in intensive recovery from being all but scalped in a confrontation, Celeste is now wild and weaving through the canopy of the lofty trees at our soft-release site a whisker from the Brisbane Ranges. While she has yet to appear on any of the night camera footage, we have ‘captured’ spectacular footage of a microbat hovering and, best of all, a female Ringtail possum and her two healthy joeys. It was little short of delightful to see them flitting about the tree with inquisitive and robust ease. We cannot know for certain, but it seems more than likely that this could be Kitri from an earlier release in 2023. Or possibly Ernestine, Henrietta, Beryl, or Bernice (though, of course, they’ll have shed their human-given names long ago). With so many nestboxes in so many trees, and in a property that is so well-connected, who wouldn’t shepherd their little ones to such a place to learn the ropes. Regardless of who they were, and whether or not they were from one of our soft-releases, seeing not one but two joeys thriving was such an unexpected reassurance in a year of fleeting highs.
Sadly, the two littlest Berries, Bob and Betty, recently passed away. They were initially slow to take to browse and reluctant to move around the enclosure, preferring to remain in the pouch. Considerably smaller than their peach-floof brother, Bill, they had seemed to be slipping behind. It eventuated that were not digesting fibre. They received immediate Wildlife Victoria veterinary attention, medication, and round the clock care, however, for some reason, their little bodies hadn’t developed enough to cope. Though it presented in their guts, it could have been indicative of some other underlying health issue. Maybe Juniper knew this all along.
So Bill was not alone in the world, two new buddies came into the fold, Jean and Oti, two unrelated to each other orphaned female ringtails from East Malvern, both in need of a home. Jean and Bill took to one another immediately. So much so that they were hard to tell apart at a glance. While Bill has a slightly rounder, lighter face, they are becoming one and the same. A pair of Billie Jeans, they had no room for Oti, and Jean pushed Oti out of the pouch. Mindful not to miss the signs, we separated them, which of course meant that now Oti needed a group of her own. Hence the arrival of Marble, a malnourished female joey, and Toffee, a retiring male joey from Malvern. Just as Bill and Jean look alike with their rusty coats, Oti, Marble, and Toffee are all starting to look similar as well. Marble’s bony hips give her away, but little else, and as she continues to eat and drink well, this will not be for long.
Further about the room of nocturnal inhabitants you’ll find Umi, a Grey-headed flying fox pup, who came into care last week. While Umi has big, beautiful eyes, the first part of him we saw was his glorious, black right wing extending upwards in response to tinkling our house keys when we arrived on the scene. He’d been heard earlier, calling in vain for his mum, by a member of the public who then called Wildlife Victoria. Partially hidden by grass and leaf litter, on the ground, then, he had since fallen silent, and had found himself deep under the shed bark of a tall gumtree.
Elsewhere, in the outdoor enclosure, Ginni, Houdini, Constance, and Rose, have made the move from their pouch to the nesting box, and on days, such as today, when the temperature is too high, they have appeared to take pleasure in hopping in their travel basket and being brought indoors. The first time we tried to get them into the basket, one by one, they kept trying to pop out, but on the second day, they all but leapt in. A roomy, lined basket, and the cool respite of the front room, everything to gain. Peeking beneath the cloth covering the basket, four stretched out ringtails can be seen. One has loosely coiled beneath the hand towel, and another lies belly up. Alongside them, belly down, lies another, while in the corner, all but leaning, the fourth one props. Once the day cools, we’ll return them to their enclosure for the night.
Remember little Horace who was a Wildlife Victoria rescue case we attended on the 24th of October? We met him on a balcony of a high rise apartment block, surrounded by the manufactured debris of everyday life, clinging to a dustpan. A broom, a collapsed clothes rack, a catalogue of objects to climb over as he tried to regain his footing. Flying foxes, like Horace, can accidentally fly in to balcony spaces of appartments/offices and then quickly find themselves trapped. Many balconies don’t have a surface they can easily climb up high on, nor a branch they can hold on to with their marvellous feet. A Flying fox takes three full wing beats to take off, something not possible from a blue dustpan lying on its side. Consequently, in his desperation to find a means to take off/a safe spot to get his bearings, Horace crawled over every surface, his oars whacking the hard, unforgiving surfaces.
We have had a few Flying foxes come into care in the same state, exhausted from their ordeal (remember Oboe and Maudie?). After initial rest and hydration in the indoor enclosure, we move them to the outside enclosure for observation because, like Horace, after roughly five days, full thickness skin loss due to the trauma presents.
Horace needed wound management for several weeks to heal his joint wounds. Everywhere that was in contact with the balcony floor was bruised and traumatised. His cloaca and all his knuckley joints and thumbs. Recovery takes time.
So, should you ever come across a Flying fox on your balcony, like Stephen did, sing out for help from a wildlife rescue group. And, in the future, having a stable, potplant somewhere for them to hang onto, as they wait, can help. Once they find something that is familiar and/or allows them to ‘hang’, it can help calm them until a nearby rescuer arrives.
Horace is currently spending time at Bat Rescue Bayside in their flight enclosure to ensure he is ready for release. As he gets his flight practice in, he has also enjoyed the company of other flying foxes. Two vital parts of his recovery journey: flight space and companionship.
As ever, please note: you need to be a qualified, vaccinated carer to handle bats.
(Balcony photos taken by the member of the public (MoP), Stephen, shared with permission.)
If you would like to support our Tiny but Wild wildlife shelter, you can make a donation here.
Image credit: Detail from our artists’ book, Restoring corridors, currently on display at the Mornington Peninsula Regional Gallery, as part of the 2024 National Works on Paper exhibition. Vote for your favourite work in the 2024 National Works on Paper People’s Choice Award.
