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The Curious Incident of the Pheasant Coucal

Text: The Curious Incident of the Pheasant Coucal

from GB, 15.12.09

On Tuesday I was driving along the Woodgate Highway. It is a scenic, level road out in the countryside with cattle paddocks on one side and woodlands the other. I'd picked up the children from their small rural school, about 20 km from our home at Woodgate.

Driving at 100km/hr I saw a Pheasant Coucal flying down low over the road. I quickly braked but heard the sickening thud of the bird hitting the car. I didn't stop to check on the bird as it was too dangerous to park by the side of the road. My mood plummeted as I drove home. Stupid bloody birds, I thought, can't they see my bright red car.

We'd been home for a couple of hours when I went into the garage to fill up the chicken feeders. As I entered the garage I heard a muffled sound like a puppy in a cardboard box. I looked at the car and saw something that was just not right. I saw the head and neck of a Pheasant Coucal and a strong black beak opening and shutting. I could feel my blood pressure dropping.

I looked again to make sense of the situation and realised that the Pheasant Coucal had wedged in behind the plastic grill at the front of my engine. The head and neck were at the front, the body and flapping wings were behind the grill. Bizarre!

I ran across the road to implore help from my kindly neighbour Allen. He was mowing but stopped when he saw me gesticulating like a mad woman. Using an old piece of material my neighbour carefully extricated the bird from the grill, long tail feathers dropping in a sad pile. Allen took the bird back to his place to kill it with a blow from a spade.

I was upset but relieved that I was not the one doing the mercy killing. Later Allen came knocking at the door with blood stained material in hand, a strange look on his face.

"You'll never believe what happened' he said, his eyes wide with amazement. "I put the bird down to hit it over the head and it darn well flew off."

"What!' I exclaimed.

"Yes, and then the neighbours bloody cat got it."

"What!" I jabbered.

"Yes, and then I saved it from the cat and took it into the bush out front and it flew off again."

I didn't know whether to be happy or sad. It probably didn't even make it through the night, but you never know, maybe Pheasant Coucal's have 9 lives.

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