My Diary

by Rupert "Rosie" Rosella

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Summer - 2007

Having read the ill-informed rubbish on this website - which is allegedly my website - I realised that I would have to get into print myself to try and set the record straight. Before I start, I should like to make clear that Golden-mantled Rosellas are birds (originally from eastern Australia)! We are not a sub-species of the human race - although humans tend to treat us as if we were half-witted three year old human children, especially the way talk a lot of drivel to us. It is true that using human intelligence tests we get scores similar to human children aged about 3½, but if humans were given bird intelligence tests they would rate about 6 months old, I suspect.

The fact is that in our natural environment we live quite comfortably to an age of 20 years plus, without any help from humans. Of course, if you take us half way around the world and then turn us loose in a cooler temperate climate, we do have some difficulty finding suitable food and shelter. Nevertheless, some of us have managed to do just that - we have survived, as I did - and lived to tell the tale.

You might expect to find my diary with entries against dates - that is the way humans do it - but us birds do not think like that. You see we do not have calendars - we were around long before calendars were invented. So it is no good asking me when my birthday is. To be honest I can not remember that far back. I can not even remember my mother and father, or whether I had any brothers or sisters. In fact the earliest thing I can remember is being on my own, being very hungry, and cold. Then I found this nice warm light-fitting on a sheltered balcony and I spent the night there. I stayed on there quite happily until the owner returned from holiday.

That presented me with a problem. The owner obviously objected to my leaving a bit of a mess behind me, and promptly started cleaning up. She did not actually try to evict me but I could see that that might be the eventual outcome. So I began to look for another, preferably, more permanent roost. In going to and from my feeding area I had noticed a man and a woman in an adjacent garden who kept coming out to look at me - sometimes with binoculars. So I went to investigate their premises.

At first sight it did not look promising. The nest box on the garage wall was only big enough for a blue tit, and although they had bird feeders out, the food they provided was quite unsuitable for a rosella. But on one occasion when I was passing, I noticed that they had left the conservatory doors open, so I flew in to check it out. There was a splendid perch across the room at roof height which I tried out. In fact, without thinking, I did a 'whoopsy' on their carpet, whilst roosting there for a few minutes. I later found out they discovered it on their return. They are still groaning on about it, even though it is a very small stain!

The trouble was that to get a billet here I knew I would have to surrender my freedom - but if the living here was going to a good one, c'est la vie, as we Rosellas say.

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