A possum, a duck & a woman named Lisa.

Not every rescue call from Wildlife Victoria involves roos or wombats. Thursday brought two calls involving less exotic creatures -- and one wildly surprising outcome.

The day's first call came as Aradhna and I were about to board our morning train. A woman in Ivanhoe had called Wildlife Rescue to report a ring-tailed possum stuck on a fence, perhaps due to 'swooping' birds (Australian magpies are notorious for swooping on animals, people & cars that venture near their nests). I kissed Aradhna goodbye as she boarded the train and walked back to our place for the car. This is what I found at the woman's house:A large joey kicked around in her pouch and she occasionally bathed it with her tongue. She seemed reasonably healthy, though being nocturnal meant she may have been disoriented in daylight. large dog in the yard of the woman who'd made the report barked as I used a blanket to coax mama possum towards a large tree beside the fence.

A sidenote: If you see an animal in distress beside your property, BRING YOUR BIG F*CKING DOG INSIDE!

I stayed for a while to be sure the possum didn't wander back into trouble. She didn't. Went for a coffee at Red Lounge Cafe in Ivanhoe before crossing the street to visit Ivanhoe Library to work.

Anne from Wildlife Rescuers called around 1 pm about a duck in Bundoora. A woman home sick with the flu said a duck had been in her front yard since the previous afternoon. Appeared injured. Thirty minutes later I pulled into a new development in former bushland and found the house. In the woman's small, stone-landscaped yard was a white duck with red features around the eyes. Used my camera phone to send Anne a photo. She determined it was a Muscovy Duck, which are common domestic pets. It looked properly nourished and devoid of obvious injury, but how had it gotten here, and why had it chosen this tiny yard as refuge?

I spoke with the homeowner; she was baffled. One of the duck's wings had been cut on a straight line, most likely to prevent it from flying. I called a nearby veterinary clinic to verify they'd examine it and went about catching it. Nosy neighbors would have been gifted with the sight of a large man using a beige blanket like a matador to herd a frightened duck into a corner. This took several attempts, but when I got the blanket over the duck, it stopped struggling and lay still. I took this as a sign that it had been someone's pet. Wild animals fight tooth & nail. Had it escaped? Been dumped? Regardless, this duck needed a home.

Bundoora Vet Clinic was just down the road. Most vets do pro bono work for Wildlife Victoria and the good folks at Bundoora Vet Clinic were no different. I took a seat in the waiting room, the duck peacefully ensconced in a specially designed box beside me (shown in the photo atop this post). A couple came in with a bandaged Weimaraner. They sat across the room stroking and worrying over their magnificent dog. A door opened and a female vet called out, "I'll see your duck now." The couple no doubt waited with heightened impatience after me and my box disappeared into the examination room.

The vet gave the duck a clean bill of health. I learned it wasn't unusual for duck owners to remove portions of wings to keep their pets from escaping. After thanking the staff for their efforts, the duck and I returned to my car. Sitting in the parking lot of Bundoora Vet Clinic, a question emerged: What to do with a healthy Muskovy Duck in Melbourne's northern suburbs?

I called Anne at Wildlife Rescue to see if she'd had any luck finding a carer. She said a woman named Lisa who owned several ducks was interested in our refugee, under one condition: It had to be female. Lisa had too many males –- one more could cause bloodshed among her competing flocks. I found a peaceful spot to park in a blue-collar suburb called Reservoir and awaited her call, the duck sitting quietly in its box beside me. I occasionally pulled back the blanket and stroked its soft head. Two boys kicked footy goals using traffic cones nearby, howls of profanity signaling each miss. Dogs, their walkers, joggers and elderly women carrying grocery bags passed as the sun sunk near rooftops. Lisa’s call came at 5:00. She explained how to determine a duck's sex -– feathers curved upwards at its tail meant it was a male. I had a look. Thankfully, this duck’s rear feathers were flat, so I was off to Lisa’s home in Preston.

Children of Indian descent were riding their bikes in front of Lisa’s house when I pulled up. They eyed me wearily as I removed the box from the car and approached Lisa’s flowering front yard and non-descript, one-level home. A fat cat was there one minute and gone the next as I stepped onto the porch. Lisa pushed open a screen door. She was thin, pushing 50, and as I’d been warned, very chatty.

And she had a turtle dove on top of her head.

Lisa told me this turtle dove got handfed morning & night and slept on her pillow. Two other turtle doves went from sitting atop a wooden dresser to flying around the room, occasionally drawing a rebuke from Lisa, who was happily admiring her newest duck as it waddled across a surprisingly clean carpet. Lisa’s daughter Tabitha, 13 or so, introduced herself and left the room, making no comment about the bird atop her mom’s head. I was too busy asking about Lisa’s menagerie of 15 ducks, half a dozen pigeons, 2 lizards, innumerable cats and a kitten to notice when the bird left Lisa's head for a perch beside an old TV. I learned that Lisa’s deceased mom had been instrumental in her daughter’s love of animals, and thought of the reaction my own mother would have to a house inhabited by flying, squawking, pooping creatures.

Lisa was unquestionably quirky, but her love for feathered animals was genuinely heartwarming as we spoke in a front room. She described a drake (male duck) named Charlie that had recently lost its long-time mate. Muskovies are a cross between ducks and geese, so they’re naturally monogamous and suffer great trauma at the death of a mate. Lisa commented several times about how Charlie was going to instantly fall for the ‘pretty’ duck I’d brought. She'd even thought of a name for Charlie’s new squeeze: Daphne.

A pigeon sat peacefully in a mail holder as we entered the kitchen. Beside a refrigerator was a fish tank with two foot-long 'runt' lizards that Lisa had saved from a breeder. Next to them sat a big green bird cage bursting with a robust, cooing male pigeon (Lisa said it didn't like visitors and would have attacked me). An alcove beside the kitchen brought Lisa's backyard flocks into view. Butterflies danced in my stomach. Daphne, an abandoned duck found in a tiny Bundoora front yard, was about to be partnered with a grieving widower in a lush backyard in Preston. Had an animal rescue call really morphed into a Muskovy Duck arranged marriage?

Two giant Muskovies, a male & female couple whose names I forget, greeted Daphne like Romans braying for the blood of a gladiator. The male was claiming her, the female voicing her displeasure at competition. Lisa hollered and they retreated. A dozen ducks segregated in the rear of Lisa's large backyard honked madly. A small dog named Coco approached Daphne, its tail waving wildly. Lisa and Tabitha yelled in tandem and Coco happily fled to another corner of this suburban duck haven.

All the while a large drake hovered nearby. This was Charlie. Lisa enticed him -- 'Look at how pretty she is, Charlie' -- but the drake was playing it cool. Daphne, meanwhile, carefully inspected her surroundings before tucking into bowls of water and duck food. The sun had set. After learning I was an American, Tabitha coyly peppered me with questions about New York City. I thanked Lisa for providing such a happy outcome for this stray duck but she was elated at providing a mate for Charlie. Lisa and I vowed to stay in touch. That may or may not come to pass, but I won't soon forget her and Tabitha's magical menagerie.