Feline Window-Digging: A Case Study

We have three cats, two of which do not care enough about going outside to bother making tiny sad kitten noises about it. The one that does care enough gets to go out for an hour or three a day. The younger two stay in.

Millie (previously), however, does occasionally find the great outdoors interesting.

Specifically, she finds it interesting when there's another cat out there.

Like the ginger cat that lives next door, for instance.

When she sees another cat, she does a thing.

And this is the thing that she does.

She'll keep doing it for about as long as the other cat hangs around. Several minutes non-stop, sometimes. Note that the ginger cat is so used to it that he doesn't even bother looking.

When the other cat goes away, Millie's walnut-sized brain drops out of Scrabble Mode, and she wanders off peacefully to return to her principal occupation, which is sleeping.

Booga booga booga!

There's a popular perception among foreigners that in Australia every shoe, beach and toilet seat is crammed full of deadly poisonous creepy-crawlies.

Well, on the one hand, yes, we've got a lot of poisonous things here. And crocodiles, and stuff.

But the most deadly animal in Australia, in deaths per year, is apparently the European honeybee. People get bitten by nasty spiders and snakes all the time, but unless it happens while they're out in some trackless wasteland with no access to antivenom (in which case they might also not make it into the official statistics), they all survive. Steve Irwin had to go to some really extreme lengths to find something that'd actually kill him.

So there's that.

Huntsman spider

But then again, there's this.

Huntsman spiders are found, in one variety or another, all over the world. They're common in suburban Australia, though. Australian houses are seldom tightly sealed and double glazed, and huntsman spiders are wide and flat, so they can and do sneak indoors.

The above example, a mere four inches or so across (this strain grows to about six inches across), was on the outside of the kitchen window, so you get to see the less common "ventral aspect". Or, to put it another way, his underside.

I think it's a him. Huntsman males and females are similar in size (many spider species have tiny males and big females), but huntsman males have a smaller abdomen.

Huntsman spiders are physically harmless - you can get bitten by one of them if you really try, but if you then go to the hospital they will point and laugh at you. But they're psychologically traumatising for many people. Including me, though I've managed to become slightly saner about them over the years.

Huntsman spiders, you see, really are hunters. They don't hang around in a web waiting for food to come to them; they sit still most of the time, but when prey presents itself they go after it, at speed. They can use this same turn of speed to avoid capture, and they are perfectly capable of locomoting at a full gallop sideways.

It's the sideways-ness that bothers me most.

But that's probably only because I don't often spend time looking at the ventral aspect.

Huntsman spider close-up

Madre de dios.

Given the commonness of Australian huntsmen, it's surprising that there don't seem to be any on the otherwise excellent What's That Bug.

What's That Bug has also, by the way, convinced me that North Americans can just shut up about scary insect monsters in Australian houses, given the commonness of house centipedes over there. Not to mention things that are actually called "toe biters", and whose bites are (a) much more common and (b) far more painful than huntsman bites or, apparently, the bite of any other insect - though they admittedly won't actually kill you.

I suppose you'll do that yourself, after half an hour or so.

Ghost cat!

Our youngest cat, Millie, in near-infrared.

Ghost cat

This shot was taken at night (f1.8, ISO 800, four seconds), by the light of two 500 watt halogen floodlights that I couldn't quite angle down enough to light Millie up really well. They still threw enough heat on her that she was squirming cheerfully around on the chair, though, which made it hard to get a shot of her that didn't look like a many-legged blob.

Millie the draught excluder

Here she is in visible light. She serves as a useful metaphor for the wave-particle duality of light, actually, since she is simultaneously spotty and stripy.

Millie and Joey, a still life

She gets on well with Joey.

Legally mandated cat picture

Important sleeping, interrupted

The intrepid Joey, at his ease.

We have formed a theory that Joey is the dominant cat in our family of three, but is not actually aware of this fact.

Sad bird in fog

Fogcockatoo

Well, probably not that sad, really. Katoomba birds are used to living in a cloud (as are Katoomba people).

They still look all damp and miserable, though, which may or may not increase the amount of seed they manage to scam from us.

Taken through a window with the C6.

Birdies in motion

Here's the cockatoo video I briefly linked to the other day. I think it's a boy; apparently the only visible difference is that females have red-brown eyes, and males have darker brown. I'll call it "he", anyway.

This clip serves as a pretty good test of the VPC-C6's exposure control. White bird against bright sky isn't as bad as black bird against bright sky, but it's not much easier.

Note also that when there's very little background noise, you can clearly hear the C6's autofocus ticking away to itself. The zoom's completely silent, though.

Crest action!

As I mentioned before, they walk like policemen with their hands behind their backs.

They're quite noisy eaters, at least when they've got seed to crunch.

Note that there's also no guarantee that a seed that makes it into the beak will subsequently go down the gullet.

I think that may be why they do this. Grab beak with foot to keep seed in place while you crack it.

They certainly don't need foot assistance to actually crack the seed; parrots in general have beak strength to spare, as many people who have stuck their finger through the wire of a cage that has a sign on it saying DO NOT STICK YOUR FINGER THROUGH THE WIRE will be able to confirm.

This is a Crimson Rosella (another male - Rosellas are easier to tell apart).

In an act of staggering audacity, this Rosella is considering eating some of the seed, too.

(The sun comes out from behind a cloud at the end of this clip, and the bright white cockatoo is gloriously overexposed. This was because I'd set the C6 to ISO 100 while fiddling with it. Setting it back to auto-ISO allowed it to compensate for the extra light.)

The cockie was nervous about me standing there, and had hopped off the table to peer at me from further away. Now he's back, engaging in more foot-assisted eating, and ignoring the Rosella completely.

When the cockie thinks he might actually miss out on some seed, though, things change.

Anybody with a bird feeder cannot escape the disappointing realities of bird behaviour. They may look all soft and colourful and pretty, but they by and large do not get on. Even within one family group, most birds seem to spend a lot of time trying to make sure other birds don't get anywhere near the food. I've watched one parrot guard food diligently for minutes on end, with the result that nobody gets to eat any - not even him.

(Or her. They all do it. And yes, maintenance of the pecking order does involve quite a lot of pecking.)

Remember, all of that tweeting and chirping actually means "This is mine! This is mine! Bugger off! Bugger off! Wanna root? Wanna root?"

After he'd finished eating, the cockatoo repaired to the trellis again, and I pestered him some more. Make funny noises at cockies and they'll usually oblige you with some neck-bending.

This was shot from maybe four feet away; he didn't let me get really close.

Seeding frenzy

Cockatoos breakfasting

No wonder the seed disappears so fast.

(There were actually seven of them hanging around, but no more than five could cram in around the seed tray.)

Kookaburra visit

The other day, for no immediately obvious reason, there was a kookaburra sitting on our railing.

Fluffed up kookaburra

(A Laughing Kookaburra, by the way, not the less common and less cuddly Blue-Winged version.)

Birds, we get plenty of. Kookas, we don't, because we don't put out the right food.

There's a house further up the street that always has a kooka or three sitting on the power lines outside. My Holmesian deductive skills lead me to believe that the people who live there feed the kookas.

That's easy enough to do; just put out bits of meat and kookaburras, who are happy to eat pretty much anything that's not a boring old plant, will gobble them up.

Kookas do not do well on a diet heavy in the steak-bits that humans like to feed them, but occasional meals of pretty much any live or dead animal go down nicely.

Kookaburra portrait

This one had decided to try our house out instead. It was a female, I think, on account of the lack of blue colouration on wings and tail.

Anyway, I first went out there to snap some shots of the bird with my old-ish 100-300mm. That wasn't as successful as I'd hoped.

Oh, I took pictures of the bird just fine. But the minimum focus distance for the 100-300 is 1.5 metres, and I had some trouble getting that far away from this kookaburra. She seemed happy enough with the lens more or less clinking up against her beak.

It wasn't really a normal bird-lens kind of situation.

So I switched to my cheap Phoenix macro.

Kookaburra eye

Yeah, that's better.

Many kookaburras have been hanging around people long enough that they'll eat out of your hand.

Kookaburra beak

It's up to you to decide whether that's a good idea.

I took a lot of pictures of this kooka, then figured I ought to say thank you with at least a bit of food. Nothing in the pantry really screamed "kookaburra food", but there was some cat food with fish chunks, which looked like a decent bet.

Kookaburra having a snack

It met with her approval.

I initially tried offering her a spoonful of it. I only just managed to get the spoon back.

Kookaburra snack

Kookaburras aren't really built to eat cat food, even the lumpy kind. So a significant amount of the fish ended up just messing up her beak. And the railing.

Kookaburra shaking head

That was because kookas instinctively beat their food on hard objects, to make sure it's dead. They do this with any food you give them, which means you'll get sprayed with tiny bits of fish if you give them cat food.

Kookas also, like other birds, have a nictitating membrane, or "third eyelid", which they deploy to protect their eyes when they're doing something dramatic, like bashing their food.

Kookaburra monster

The translucent membrane gives the bird a dead-eyed zombie look.

Cats have third eyelids too, but they at least have the decency to close their outer eyelids before they close the membrane, so you usually only see a bit of it retracting away as a sleepy cat opens its eyes. If you see a cat with its eye mostly open and the nictitating membrane clearly visible, then it is probably not a healthy cat.

The kookaburra hasn't been back for another feed. I presume whatever they're getting up the street is better.