Goodbye, Ms Bo

Ms Bo on her "inside" perch

It's not how we'd planned it and it's not how we expected it to happen. But nature takes her own course in these things and I'm trying to be pragmatic about it - despite a sleepless, fretful night.

Yes, the inevitable has happened - Ms Bo has escaped, never to be seen again, I suspect.

Strangely, we've been saying for the last two weeks that it's probably time for us to seriously consider setting her free - that was, after all, always the intention. We were hoping to take her to the avian vet on Saturday for a check up and a final verdict on her state of well being and then we were going to open the door to her pen, one day when the Ba-Kaaka Nostra were present, and let her go.

Bo and the Ba-Kaaka Nostra a couple of weeks ago

The reality is that we could never have kept Ms Bo - she was wild from the start and intended to stay that way - a fact that became deeply apparent a couple of months back when we had painters at the house. Although they denied it, we think one of them terrorised her because since then Ms Bo's attitude to humans was one of utter panic. Guinea fowl are neurotic at the best of times, but Ms Bo took to working herself into a frenzy anytime anyone came remotely near Le Palais de Beau Bo - and she took to hiding out in the "hutch" we built on to the back of her house when anyone got to close. Once in there though she obviously felt safe, as she'd suffer having her back stroked by me on occasions and seemed to enjoy being crooned at and told she was a beautiful girl who'd grow up to be queen of all the guinea fowl...
.

Bo's first villa - Bo Vers 0.1

And although the avian vet had suggested that we could keep Bo as a pet, both we and Bo knew that Bo was a wild thing. So, as I say, the intention remained to find a suitable time, when we thought she was strong enough, and release her. But so much for the best laid plans.

Yesterday evening D took Bo her worms and for some reason didn't shut the door of the pen behind him. Although he usually shuts the door behind him, it's not necessarily a problem if he doesn't as Bo doesn't tend to make bids to escape. But this time, as he leaned underneath her to drop her mealworms in the scratching tray, she eyed the open door, whizzed over his head and was out. There was no thought of even trying to catch her - it would have been hopeless. We hoped that if we left her, she'd find herself a spot for the night, settle down and reappear in the morning. (Very often guinea fowl that have been raised by humans and then set free will be quite content to never leave the sanctuary of their garden.)

We watched nervously as Bo pootled around the garden for a few minutes - and then eyed the wall - the one over which the Ba-Kaaka Nostra fly every day. Bear in mind Ms Bo has not had much exercise at flying any great heights, but she stood there contemplating the wall and then in a flurry of wings was up and gone.

At first we thought she'd gone straight over the wall until frantic searches in the road revealed nothing - and then I spotted her shuffling on a thick gum branch some ten feet above the ground. She seemed to be settling in for the night so we left her to it. It was nearly dark and there was nothing we could do. We left the door of her pen open, put out plenty of seed and hoped for the best.

This morning there was no sign of her and although the Ba-Kaaka Nostra turned up for breakfast and although there was a juvenile guinea fowl that flew down from the very top of the tallest gum to join them, and although we hoped that it was Bo, closer inspection of the photos I shot (for confirmation) show that it was most likely not her.

Juvenile guinea fowl, almost certainly not Bo

Bo has four distinctions about her - she has two white claws, a badly damaged left nostril from constantly banging it against the wire of the pen, a deformed breast bone and very rasping voice. But she'd need to call out or one would need to get really close to be able to identify her. And the bird above's face just isn't Ms Bo's - as much as we wanted it to be.

So, we have no idea where she is and we can only hope that she will be okay. Whether she will survive or not out there on her own, who knows - but I'm not holding my breath. Her best bet would be to integrate with another group of guinea fowl - a lone guinea doesn't stand much chance - and bear in mind that Bo has never been out of our garden - has no experience of dogs and cats, let alone cars. We can only know that we did our best for her and that without us she would never have got this far. And as D says, better one day free as a lion than a lifetime penned up as a sheep. So here's hoping that whatever freedom Ms Bo is enjoying or did enjoy, it's good.

Finally the story that started here with this wee and ailing guinea fowl keet...

Bo Peep, an abandoned guinea keet, unable to fledge

Bo Peep, rescued and learning to leap

Ms Bo, munching on a snail

Ooh, bugs, yum!

...ends here with these shots taken just two days ago.

Ms Bo, a nearly fully grown guinea fowl

I'm glad I had the chance to give her one last stroke yesterday and tell her what a beautiful girl she is.

Be safe, be wild and be free, Ms Bo.