The Dog Bowl

Looking out of our living room window, I watched two crimson rosellas chasing away a few bigger king parrots, wanting all the seed that I’d placed in the bowl on the front garden grass for themselves.

King parrots never visited our garden, hoping for food when Nora was alive. Perhaps they don't like dog kibble. Olive-backed orioles do. So do bowerbirds and ravens. They'd perch in the trees next to our patio, waiting to steal a piece of kibble from the dog bowl that I'd left outside for Nora.

The birds were bold, swooping down even when Nora was close by. In her younger days, the birds would never have dared to come anywhere near the dog. She’d have pounced on them, in her own way, wanting to play, following her hunting dog instincts.

So Nora watched the birds steal her food from the comfort of her kennel, and when she thought they'd taken enough, she'd emerge slowly, stretching her long black limbs with the threadbare knees, giving the birds time to rise with a noisy flutter of wings, and retreat to the trees.

I missed the birds after Nora died. No dog. No kibble. No birds.

I wondered if I could entice the birds back to our garden with native bird seed bought from the supermarket. Looking around for something to put it in, I spied Nora's no-longer-used bowl. I poured out a generous helping of seed and placed it on our front garden grass.

It didn't take long for the birds to find the seed. Soon they were jostling, competing for the best seat in the pop-up seed cafe. But the birds weren't orioles, ravens, or bowerbirds. They were king parrots, crimson rosellas, galahs, and sulphur-crested cockatoos.

Perhaps our former bird visitors prefer dog kibble to seed. Not that it's good for them. Nora should have kept the plump birds away from this unhealthy diet. Maybe I should have chased them away. But I didn’t.

I thought about buying a proper bird feeder, something designed especially for seed, but I still use Nora's metal bowl embossed with paw prints. I used to pour kibble into the bowl for Nora. Now I pour seed into it for the birds. I like that. Perhaps Nora, who used to share her food, would like it too.

Photos :

King parrots in our front garden. The red-headed one is the male.