Tooshtoosh Has Brought His Chicks

[briefvisit]

https://imgur.com/EGjRE0F

This doesn't happen a lot. Any alarm (and sometimes no alarm at all . . . ) causes Tooshtoosh and the chicks to go into Eagle Eyes Mode (then they may bolt like mad).

For whatever reason, this is Tooshtoosh paying attention.

 

[kbgh]

What a great observation. Maybe Toosh spotted you

 

[briefvisit]

' Maybe Toosh spotted you'

tee hee Aw, no, kb. I don't count.

So, the thing here is one of the groovy things about the difference between observing your birds -- in smaller areas -- and observing wild birds.

Imagine you're observing some birds in your proximity, say, up to a hundred yards away. And imagine that there are several birds, maybe a breeding-pair, maybe some random wild birds, at distances out to a half a mile.

Okay. So, at any given moment, there is a sort of audio-visual 'interaction' happening between all the home team and all the interlopers. All players have absurdly sharp vision and hearing. There's an electric crackle of information going in both directions.

And what you see Tooshtoosh doing (particularly as he is protecting a clutch) is bog standard: some little thing, real or imagined, has triggered his alarm. It's already early fig season. So interlopers are in-bound.

You've heard me using the term 'operating'. Well, this is the very first action of 'operating': is there a threat? If so, can I beat it off? If I can, move from home base to confront the interlopers away from home base. Here below is a photo of Felicity driving five or six birds -- 'operating against them' -- fully three hundred yards from the house-clearing. I've tracked a female operating -- vocalising against an unseen interloper -- six hundred yards from the house.

 

[kbgh]

That is so cool that you can get all these great observations. My bucket list is to visit you.

 

[briefvisit]

We'll go out to the edge of the National Park, which is getting to be a real adventure for Old Guy. If you have moonlight in the early hours, you can leave the house at, say, one a.m.; cross to 'the old Oudman place' -- which features in a number of posts from the old days -- on moonlit tracks; arrive on the last high point at the south of the place; and sit down, with binos, and wait for dawn.

From that point, it's a vista over about a half mile of down-to-a-gully-and-back-up-the-other-side, which abuts the actual National Park. So if you see any emus, they are seriously wild birds, snuck out from the NP to the bit of pasture between the gums on the Oudman's side.

 

[kbgh]

Sounds like an adventure to me

 

[briefvisit]

I was walking with Tooshtoosh and the chicks, down to the dam. We were all just coming out onto a pasture when a wild horse galloped across it. The chicks were completely freaked out, and fled all the way back to the house-clearing.

 

[briefvisit]

Update:

the chicks are now shoulder-high to Dad. Developing personalities. I can pat them. They eat from my hand.

But the data is what is important:

what makes a Dad choose to leave a clutch either at the end of the first season or during the second is largely unknown. We have only a tiny bit of data on this.

But what we can watch for here is whether the 'Standard Divestment Procedure' (I just made that term up) will be observed. It's autumn here. And there is 'fresh pick' from the rains, so it is a good season.

The chicks are in their seventh month -- the first month of autumn. Elsewhere, emus have already formed pairs. So every Emu Dad with a clutch is thinking about the 'equation' of parenting the chicls longer vis a vis still getting a chance to breed this winter.

So we are watching to see if Dad begins to show signs of being ready to dump the chicks -- 'divestment'. I've seen just a little of this. Dad squabbles with the chicks over food.

 

[briefvisit]

Ooooh!

Just days after I got a half-ripe fig, Limpychick the female has hove into sight.

I heard her vocalising. Gave her a feed. And sat and listened. Then a quiet 'Gurk' -- a consort! So, I've glimpsed him. And now we watch the power-play: Dad and The Gang of Five versus LimpyChick and consort.

 

[briefvisit]

We're a fortnight into autumn. It is getting cold.

And figs are 'on.'

But: in recent days -- we've been watching for some sort of change of behaviour -- Tooshtoosh Plus has not been coming in the evenings. Now, we note also that the chicks are no longer the under-foot fluffballs that they used to be. They are now perfectly capable of covering long distances.

And they move differently! That is, less as a Dad with chicks in tow, and more like a 'united front.'

So, somewhere there is a post about 'overlapping minor and major territories.' That is, an emu or emus may be 'moored' to a place -- like where there is figs -- but still travel from pasture to pasture during the day or days. But then, somehow, the emu(s) 'break out of orbit.' Could be following a prospective consort. Could be dumping your chicks and going to look for a consort. Could be shortage of water or food. Could be you are driven off your turf by a stronger emu(s).

For months now, Tooshtoosh Plus has been firmly moored hereabouts, where there is water and good pastures and fruit. But ceasing to come for their evening wheat is a change. Let's watch and see.

SE