I had a better Easter than The Boss did. His Tigers were humbled again on Saturday and remain languishing at the bottom of the ladder. Then he put the wrong bin out on Tuesday morning and the red bin is already pretty full, with a fortnight to go.

And he was busier than a one-armed man with hives setting up a spot on the river for the traditional Easter marshmallow toast-off – which the small people still insist on, despite growing much bigger.

That always follows the barbecue, of course, which offers plenty of opportunity for an alert dog who can make himself inconspicuous among legs and chairs and gooey fingers.

New Boy got into trouble for being caught licking the hot plate, despite my endless lessons on how to do it without being noticed – and I was counselled for taking a late dip in the river, which required a muddy paw spray and towelling-off when I arrived back at the house.

But there were plenty of half-eaten sausages and burgers in between and, since it happened two nights in a row by popular demand, I am more or less satisfied with the way Easter occurred for me.

I had even been happy to give The Boss a hand, pointing out the patches of bindii cropping up after the big rain last month – but that just set him off on his “seven years’ weeding” mantra.

However, his grumbling stopped the moment the sky fell in. At least, that’s what it sounded like when the cockatoos erupted into a deafening cacophony. I thought maybe the marshmallow toast-off had turned violent, but everyone was looking up.

It was a White-bellied Sea Eagle – a serious piece of machinery with talons that could wipe a smile off a puppy’s face. And not just a puppy’s. There’s a pair around the Reedy Swamp, and they cruise around Victoria Park Lake now and then, but The Boss hadn’t seen one on our stretch of river for years.

According to The Boss – who suddenly became a walking wildlife documentary – they are the second-largest raptor in Australia, after the Wedgie. The female can have a wingspan of up to 2.2 metres, so she makes New Boy look like a moth.

“While you two are scavenging half-eaten sausages,’’ The Boss smirked, “you might take note of how a professional hunter sends her prey into a frenzy.”

The sea-eagle took several wheeling turns over the river and the cockies were swarming and squawking hysterically, spearing away in all directions

He went on to explain – between bites of his charred marshmallow - how they are opportunistic feeders and eat a variety of animal prey, but catch fish by flying low over water and grasping them in those powerful talons. While mainly inhabiting coastal areas and tropical waters, the prevalence of carp and catfish along inland rivers makes it viable for the sea eagle here, too.

And while hunting over the water on sunny days, they will fly into the sun, or at right angles, so they don’t cast a shadow on the water and alert their prey.

The Boss is right– she’s a professional. A smart hunter. She knows how to take the fish by surprise, she knows how to terrify a mob of cockies so she can pick off a stray - and I daresay she knows which bin goes out on the right day too. Woof!

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Sunday, 14th November 2027

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