Koalas and Kangaroos and Wombats--Oh, My!

Morning in Sydney and off we go to have breakfast with the koalas. There’s a very well designed multi-story wildlife park in a building adjacent to Darling Harbor within minutes of our hotel where we’re the first to arrive.
We were able to see their entire exhibit, including some of the deadliest creatures in the world, mostly snakes and spiders, and some of the cutest, from kangaroos to wombats to our breakfast pals, the koalas. Their habitat (and our dining area) is outdoors on the roof of the building where we were treated to breakfast cooked on the spot and served on tables between two areas of koala habitat.
The little guys and gals were sleeping when we arrived, all in impossible positions up in improvised trees. We’re told they sleep about 20 hours a day, not because they are lazy, but because their diet of eucalyptus leaves doesn’t provide them with much energy and they need lots of time to digest it while asleep.

They are adorable little creatures, looking as furry and cuddly as we’d imagined. We were, however, treated to what the keepers told us was somewhat unusual behavior when Marley and Charley got into a serious fight, provoked when Charlie, the elder of the two, attempted to dislodge Marley from his perch at the top of a tree.

Marley began by making a very loud growling sound, a much deeper sound that you’d expect from such a little body. Charley wouldn’t leave him alone, so down the tree trunk they came and began rolling around on the ground like little sumo wrestlers. At first the more experienced keeper said “we’ll just let them sort it out,” then Marley got Charley by the neck and Charley began screaming and the keepers had to break it up.

It was a pretty unexpected and exciting way to start the day, for them and for us. The keepers kept telling us they had never had such a bad fight before. Poor Charley ended up by climbing up a different tree and nursing his wounded pride the rest of the morning.

We, however, got to gently rub a young koala named Jack and have our picture made. Jack seemed completely unmoved by our attention. The keepers only touch one animal each day to minimize disruption of their eating and sleeping routine.
It was a great way to start the day, a day that would take us all over this interesting city and leave us exhausted, but happy, before sunset. We will remember Charley and Marley and Jack for a very long time to come, despite the fact that Mike’s big disappointment was to find that both his camera batteries were dead and he couldn’t take photos.
Next on the agenda was a tour of the Sydney Opera House. Our guide, Alan, enthusiastically took us up and down (200 steps, he said) and showed us a couple of their theatre spaces plus the opera hall. The concert hall was in use and unavailable for tours, but we did go backstage to see their huge elevator area where sets are moved up and down. At several stops on the tour, we saw videos about the architect and the building process. It’s truly a spectacular building. Even the ladies room has design elements not found anywhere else, really cool sinks that don’t look like sinks at all!
After the Opera House tour, we walked around the quay to meet our luncheon tour boat. Again, it was a wonderful experience with good food and two hours on Sydney Harbor on a beautiful day.
Our afternoon was spent on a coach tour through the city. While in a park overlooking the harbor, we saw a regatta of at least twenty sailboats rounding one of the harbor islands. We found our way to Bondi (pronounced bonn-dye) beach, one of the most popular of Sydney’s 34 beaches. It was crowded on this hot day, including some topless folks—apparently that’s common on all the beaches around here, much as it is in Europe.
We drove through beautiful neighborhoods with a mix of renovated older homes and remarkable new ones, including one almost completely made of glass. There is a beautiful cliff top boardwalk that goes from the beaches to the mouth of the harbor, again through pretty neighborhoods with spectacular views of the harbor on one side and the Pacific Ocean on the other. Our driver pointed out a wharf condo building where Russell Crowe has a very expensive place on the top floor. That particular building, right on one of the bays of the harbor, is a gathering place for celebrities.
Throughout the city, there is a welcome blend of old and new architecture. We were told that many areas threatened with tear-downs for redevelopment have been saved by the people of Sydney who fight to preserve their heritage. Compromises are made sometimes, keeping structures while building high-rises behind them or just keeping the facades sometimes. There are numerous old sandstone buildings here made from the stone that is visible all around the harbor in the cliffs here.
After an unfortunate experience at a restaurant outside the hotel last night where the service was absurdly poor, we opted for supper at the hotel tonight and had a delightful meal. As tired as we are, this allowed us to find our way to bed earlier. We’ll be up early again tomorrow for our day trip to the Blue Mountains. We are a non-stop touring bunch, making the most of every opportunity to explore these amazing countries.

Who Says I Can't Talk?

Who says dogs can't talk? On the left you'll see our 13-year-old Shih Tzu, Annie. For most of her life she was a quiet dog with little vocalizing.

Over the past year, Annie has become all too vocal, displaying talents that Sarah Bernhardt would envy. The problem we're having is that it's not always easy to interpret her entreaties.

Does the whine that tears at our heartstrings mean she's hungry? Does she want to go outside? Are wolves surrounding the house and planning to attack anyone who opens a door? Is Timmy in the well?

When she groans loudly, does she have a stomach ache, headache, hangnail, earwig or broken bone? If she's running toward us, but suddenly looks at her tail and spins in a circle and barks, is it a trick or a testament to some inner psychological turmoil. Are we simply not paying attention as required?

The vet assures us that she's a great shape for her age. Okay, so her hearing seems less acute than it once was and her eyesight isn't perfect due to a small cataract in one eye. Generally those, she's good. She still runs pretty fast when it suits her and manages to leap onto the bench at the end of our bed, then onto the bed itself without assistance. It's just the attempt to talk that's baffling us.

When we're not moved with her poignancy, we're often reduced to laughter. She's pretty cute, anyway, and there's nothing more amusing than watching her emote as she stares into our eyes with such intensity.

It's reminiscent of a child yearning to communicate, but not yet articulate. There is drama, pathos even. There's urgency, followed by periods of apathy. It's apparent that she is frustrated by our inability to understand her tones. Sometimes it's obvious that our incompetence angers her. She turns the plaintive whine to a growl, first gentle, then threatening.

Mere sounds don't always suffice. When she's really intent on moving us to some action on her behalf, she backs up to us and kicks out at our feet. This, of course, usually just makes us laugh, so hasn't become her most oft-used method of messaging.

With all the ignorance of humans, we speak to her in English, a language far beneath her royal dogness. We ask all the easy questions about hunger and the need for elimination. We do not, of course, ever speak the word "treat" out loud. Even if that's not what she was seeking, it will be what she must have if the magic word is mentioned. That use of English is both allowed and welcomed.

If all else fails, she or we lose interest in this attempt at communication. We return to other activities, once again blithely unaware of the reason for the farce that has been enacted. She returns to her favorite pastime when off stage, sleeping. Fortunately, this takes most of the hours in each day, leaving us free to enjoy human pursuits.

My idea of heaven is that I'll find Annie and the other dogs and cats that have been part of my life and we will share the same language. I fear none of us will care much for reminiscing about the lives lived on this plane, but maybe they'll share a few secrets from this life. Maybe they'll give me the inside scoop on how they could enjoy the awful-smelling food we fed them or why they licked themselves so much.

It will be fun to talk about the adventures we share in that new place or dimension or whatever it is. Perhaps we'll reverse roles and I'll retrieve the ball and jump up in the air to catch the catnap mouse. Maybe they will laugh at my antics as I've laughed at theirs. Maybe they'll tell me how silly I look.

One thing I'm sure about. If they are not there, it won't be heaven for me.