Planet Rothschildi 2020

[briefvisit]

There you go! You can see from the two photos that it's the same place -- by my back door. The adult emu in the one photo is one of the chicks in the other photo

 

[briefvisit]

' Not afraid of you or the house? Or is she looking for the lilly pilly tree?'

The truly groovy thing to understand here, kb, is that these (tame-)wild emus don't know that my place is 'my place.' Indeed, fences are a worry; but these birds can enter and exit my backyard at a half a dozen places.

(There's a little hole in the fence in one corner that I put there so the nine chicks in the photo could get out of that corner of the yard -- they panic if constrained. And it's hilarious that four years later, LimpyChick -- now almost six feet high -- will still smoodge through the hole.)

So one of these birds may spend months away, travelling significant distances across the National Park; walk down the track to house; and mosey through the backyard without knowing that it is in Human Land.

 

[briefvisit]

And me? Okay:

it seems as though there is a sort of 'System of Alerts' in emus' (birds') minds. So when an actually wild emu sees a hoomern, the alert is triggered, and the emu bolts. But taming them -- your presence; talking to them; offering them food -- seems to 'turn off' the alert response. A part of this is simple greed. My birds have no actual affection for me. It is wondrous for me to see clips of captive birds approaching their owners, obviously looking for affection. My birds approach me to get food. They will do so because the 'alert' is not triggered. So I get to stroke them for a second as they take food from my hand. Felicity is pretty tame. She sort of almost stands still so I can pull her ticks -- but only if I feed her during the process.

The reality of the alerts is clear and constant. For example, it doesn't matter how long a tame-wild emu has known you, if you put it in a situation in which you constrain it -- like walking up on its flank while it has a wall or a fence on the other side, it will immediately react. The phenomenon is measurable down to a couple of feet.

So yes, kb: they are always 'afraid' of me in accordance with this model: constraint; how hungry they are; if it's windy or there has been disturbance (like a vehicle).

 

[briefvisit]

Final Note:

one of the fine opportunities to gather data is when Dad brings chicks. The chicks are not, of course, tame. But they faithfully follow Dad. And Dad is tame.

And it's flat-out hilarious watching the chicks at such a time: they want to flee the fearful thing -- me -- but Dad isn't fleeing , so . . . okay! This allows us to get quite close to truly wild emus (chicks) in order to observe them.

The same thing happens at times if wild birds and my birds and I are all present somewhere. The wild birds 'take their cue' from my birds. The result is that, very occasionally, I get to quite literally be present at/in emu behaviour involving interactions between my birds and wild birds.

[On one famous occasion, I was quietly observing two (of my) emus when they decided to attack each other. Once they lock eyes and begin advancing, all the world (including fences, lol . . . ) becomes irrelevant. Through the binoculars, just for three or four seconds, I was on the pointy end of a dinosaur attack. Splendid!]

 

[briefvisit]

 

[kbgh]

Love it. So kool to see they are so close to your house. The chicks will come around and be "your birds" too. Which male is this, Tooshtoosh?

 

[briefvisit]

It is Eric. Over a decade, he brought five clutches to the house-clearing. Felicity and Co. were the first. One time, just 'Uno' -- that's one photo above. Another time, 'Alpha and Omega,' the other photo above.

And our hopes rest with Tooshtoosh, as he is the only male. Only he can bring a clutch -- which will make the house-clearing, for those chicks, part of their World Map -- and revive Planet Rothschildi.

SE