31 December 2003

den: (Default)
Happy Birthday [livejournal.com profile] azhreia!

Now you're as old as me.
den: (bugger)
Somebody got an air rifle for christmas. I just picked up a galah with a brocken wing and a hole in its chest. First stop the vet's, then on to the Police station.
den: (rescues)
The peewee has worked out that the back-door opening means food approaches. He starts screaming and begging like a maniac. And then he sees the food. I put balls of food on a bamboo skewer and poke it through the bars. He either pecks at it or just opens his beak and shoves the whole lot down his throat. This goes on until he's had enough, and suddenly we're back to "Bugger off! You're not my Mum!"

He is actively fly/hopping from perch to perch, and does flap testing when he thinks no one's looking. This is the stage Peewee#1 would have been at if he'd survived.




Looks like the Foti Fireworks have wired up all the Harbour Bridge, Opera House and 5 barges for the display tonight. Each barge holds 130 mortars, including a 16 inch mortar on each. I wonder if they need a IT bloke.
den: (puggle)
It looks like I won't be getting any echidnas this (or next) year. If they were going to require rescuing they'd be rescued by now. Rexie was a very late baby. Normally they'd be well spined and rampaging without Mum at this time of year. I'll have to wait until next November for the next little ball of spiney fun..

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