- Nov 9, 2013
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There is nothing wrong with Limpychick, but I think we are learning a little about the difference between physical and ‘social’ maturity in emus. (And now what I recall about Felicity’s trials years ago make more sense.)
So, as an injured orphan, Limpychick has spent much more time hereabouts than is usual – all her siblings left a year or more ago.
And here is what we observe:
Limpychick’s DNA is telling here that adult females do some stuff, like vocalise to protect their breeding-territory. But it’s only seven weeks to mid-winter, at which time the consort should begin incubation, and Limpychick has no consort, and hasn’t gone off to look for one.
However, if you sit and observe – magnificent autumn weather here; come visit! – she is doing territory-protection stuff. She does that hunker-down-V-neck serious-boom thing. She patrols the perimeter – whether or not there are wild birds present. And the other day, to my amazement, she plonked on the ground, and assumed the mating position.
Wild Guess?
First, some detail on Felicity. Felicity spent literally two years in exile in the gum trees here because she grew up in the shadow of her double-alpha sister, Greedy Emu. Greedy expended enormous amounts of energy making Felicity miserable, keeping her off the house-clearing pasture. (I used to sneak her food out to her.) But eventually – long story – Felicity managed to carve out a minor territory, and she and consort Noddy Big Ears had a clutch (the second we’ve got to observe).
So here again, several years passed between physical maturity and an adult bird managing to mate.
And Limpychick is gonna miss the mark this year. So we’ll see if I am still here next year, to see if she does better.
So, as an injured orphan, Limpychick has spent much more time hereabouts than is usual – all her siblings left a year or more ago.
And here is what we observe:
Limpychick’s DNA is telling here that adult females do some stuff, like vocalise to protect their breeding-territory. But it’s only seven weeks to mid-winter, at which time the consort should begin incubation, and Limpychick has no consort, and hasn’t gone off to look for one.
However, if you sit and observe – magnificent autumn weather here; come visit! – she is doing territory-protection stuff. She does that hunker-down-V-neck serious-boom thing. She patrols the perimeter – whether or not there are wild birds present. And the other day, to my amazement, she plonked on the ground, and assumed the mating position.
Wild Guess?
First, some detail on Felicity. Felicity spent literally two years in exile in the gum trees here because she grew up in the shadow of her double-alpha sister, Greedy Emu. Greedy expended enormous amounts of energy making Felicity miserable, keeping her off the house-clearing pasture. (I used to sneak her food out to her.) But eventually – long story – Felicity managed to carve out a minor territory, and she and consort Noddy Big Ears had a clutch (the second we’ve got to observe).
So here again, several years passed between physical maturity and an adult bird managing to mate.
And Limpychick is gonna miss the mark this year. So we’ll see if I am still here next year, to see if she does better.
