There is something special about sunny, wintry mornings.  When Kathleen comes down to the stables all the Meadow ponies whinny out because we know we will soon get our breakfast of lucerne hay.  The Meadow dogs leap up off their blankets at the sound of her voice, eager to run out into the morning sun.

First, she throws the kitchen scraps onto the compost heap where the beautiful black Currawongs are waiting to see what yummy things they can gobble up and carry away to their baby birds waiting in the nest. Then she lets the dogs out,  gets the hay from the feed shed and shares it out amongst us.

After breakfast the Meadow dogs run at our heels as we go out into the fields to graze. I lead the way followed by Monty Malone and Mimi la Boom. There is nothing nicer than heading out into a brand new day!

The Meadow dogs lead little Freddie, the new puppy, out across the sand arena showing him the right places to go to the toilet. Then, Kipper and Snoopy find the sunniest and warmest places to have a nice nap. They are both getting very old now and like to cuddle together, remembering all the adventures they have had over the thirteen years they have lived on the Meadow.

Most mornings are exactly the same as other mornings. Except for today! This morning a big black Currawong flew into the stables and got trapped up in the rafters. The poor bird was confused and couldn’t find his way out through the breezeway. The Meadow dogs were very upset and ran up and down the stables barking at him. “Go away! Go away!” they growled. Snoopy looked as fierce as an angry wombat! He thought the bird was trying to steal their dog biscuits. Poor bird! He didn’t mean any harm. He was just lost.

Finally the dogs realised that  barking couldn’t drive the bird out and that sunshine and fun was more important than getting angry at a trapped bird! I’m happy to say that once things quietened down, the Currawong stopped panicking and flew out through the open doorway to freedom. He was a little shaken and bruised so he rested a while in a branch of the claret ash before flying up into the high branches of the brown-barrel tree where his family was waiting for him.

Have you ever been lost and frightened like the Currawong?

Ryan O’Brien