Wild passion
News source: Salt Magazine, Spring 2006
By Kate Johns
It was a little Tawny Frogmouth that started it all 25 years ago.
Bob Whiting found it in a back paddock of his Yandina Property and brought it up to the house to his wife. It was too small to be on its own; a shaking, fragile little mess.
That tiny, mouthy bundle of feathers was to change Sylvia Whiting’s life. Within days, she realised she had found her passion, her reason for being.
A quarter of a century later, Sylvia cuddles Shillina, a five-month-old Ringtail Possum (and Shillina snuggles her back) as she relates tales from her remarkable existence as one of the Sunshine Coast’s wildlife carers.
“I once had 15 possums at once, but that was an exception. It was a bit busy then,” Sylvia says in something of an understatement. “I just love them. This is my passion. It is what I believe in because it is really important.”
While Bob is clearly supportive of his wife’s love, it is not one he shares.
“The other night I was sitting there watching TV and a possum started crawling on me and I was calling to Sylvia to get it off me. I would rather handle a snake than handle a possum.”
But Bob’s admiration for his wife, whom he says may have been a vet if life had dealt a different hand of cards, knows no bounds.
“She is amazing – she has this sixth sense. I remember once we were out in a national park out Thargomindah way and she just walked over to this wallaby that was caught in some roots. She kind of calmed it down and got it free. She fixed it. It was incredible.”
The Whiting family home at Yandina – where Sylvia and Bob have lived since 1970 and raised three children – has also been home base for countless native animals. The backyard is a network of paddocks, cages and open shelters for animals at various stages of independence.
There is Shamika, a grey joey; Kelowna and Kanook, half-grown wallabies; a bird here and a kangaroo there.
Sylvia is a founding member of Wilvos, an association of wildlife carers that looks after orphaned, injured and sick wildlife on the Sunshine Coast. The carers take these mammals and birds into their homes, care for them, attend to their needs, raise them if they are young, and send them on their way, back into their natural habitat to be a contributing part of the natural world.
The idea is that carers step in when circumstances have let an animal down. Land clearing, cars and domestic animals most often are responsible for their plight, and without the carers, the native animals and birds would certainly not survive.
The provision of medical attention, a safe place to sleep and appropriate food all play a part, but it is easy to see that lashings of love from these extraordinary people act as a healing balm too.
Sylvia says carers need a wildlife rehabilitation licence, which is issued by the Queensland Parks and Wildlife Service. Some carers for some hurt or orphaned animals from certain categories, like the koala or birds of prey, need specific licences to match. It’s a form-filling and application-based nightmare at times.
But once the right authorities have been notified and the licences earned, carers belong to a special club bound by passion, environmental concern and a selflessness rarely found.
Getting up several times a night to feed a little charge is expected. Helping to toilet a joey or clean up after a baby bird are everyday chores. Forking out money for special milk formulas is a necessity. And rallying friends and family to construct temporary homes for the feathered and furry guests is a regular event.
Another wildlife volunteer carer familiar with adjusting her own habitat to accommodate a furry friend is Kia Bailey, an animal lover who also makes her living caring for critters.
A veterinary nurse, Kia has been a volunteer wildlife carer for 12 years and worked at Taronga and Western Plains Zoos before moving to Queensland earlier this year to take up a position at the Australian Wildlife Hospital.
Kia’s current charge is a Mountain Brushtail Possum, Zane – a wide-eyed, snuggly baby in a polar fleece pouch. At about five months, Zane is growing fast and needs regular feeds throughout the day and goes to work with Kia.
“When Zane came to us, he had a broken ulna and he had to have a little blue cast on his arm for a couple of weeks,” Kia says. “He needed antibiotics and I had to massage his fingers to keep the circulation going, so we spent a lot of time together in the first few weeks.”
Like many of the baby animals that are fostered to wildlife carers, Zane’s mother had been hit and killed by a car. A passer-by found Zane crawling on her body some time later.
“Usually the driver who hits the animals doesn’t stop, but thankfully someone else does,” Kia says. “If the adult animal is a koala, kangaroo or possum, it is very important that someone checks the pouch to be sure there is no baby. It is also important to move the body off the road – dead animals attract scavengers and too often we have birds brought in because they have been hit by another car while scavenging.”
Kia says there was always a need for new committed, qualified carers, particularly in an area developing quickly like the Sunshine Coast.
Sylvia agrees, and says information on caring is essential.
“We have our members go through a new carer’s workshop before they are given an animal. It really surprises people, but you can kill them so easily and it is vital the new members feel confident in the way they care for their animals,” she says.
Wilvos has meeting a couple of times a month on topics such as handling techniques, the development of specific species and release strategies.
Sylvia says she has to plan her outings and holidays around her animals. She often calls on her Wilvo friends to come and feed or baby-sit. And she does the same for them.
“Last time I went away, I had three different people coming in to look after the animals. I couldn’t operate without them,” Sylvia says.
And that is the essence of Wilvos – group support, collected knowledge and a firm belief that a whole is more than the sum of its parts.
“We all need help and information that you cannot get by being an individual carer. We constantly learn from each other and from the experts we can call in because we are an organisation,” Sylvia says.
Each injured, sick or orphaned animal has a personality all of its own. Sylvia and Kia say animals bond with their carer and exhibit individual behaviours and nuances.
“It is important for their development that they feel attached,” Sylvia says. “It is a basic need of all animals.”
Kia says the animals she fosters are never her pets.
“I suppose I am more like a parent,” she says. “For example, Zane would have been with his mother for at least 12 months, so he will be with a carer at least that long. But the idea always is that they must be release; they must eventually live as they would have if their parent wasn’t killed. So I have to care for him, but as he gets older, I have to ensure he is not completely dependent on me.”
Kia and Sylvia both favour the soft release strategy when the time comes for their babies to leave home. This involves easing them out and encouraging small steps towards independence.
It is kinder this way, they say – for them and the animals. But goodbyes are not easy.
Long-time fellow Wilvo and good friend of Sylvia, Donna Anthony, says she doesn’t have a ceremony for when her animals are released.
“No, there is no cake or anything,” she says. “I just make sure I have a big box of tissues.”
If you find an injured animal, call the Wilvos’ hotline on (07) 5441 6200 or the Australia Wildlife Hospital on 1300 369 652. Both are staffed 24 hours a day.
