Well that was all well and good, but as they say, "What goes up, must come down." and that was a little difficult. He tried a number of different routes, including performing some extraordinary acrobatics, and one manouver which made him look like a koala.
Have you ever watched a koala back down a tree trunk? With a little encouragement from me, he found his way back to ground level and with his heart beating wildly decided to take me up on my offer of a bit of food and relaxation back inside the house. Later in the afternoon, I decided to let him out again for a run before nightfall. This time he managed to attack my pot of Carex grass, which trails beautifully, pluming from within the pot and weeping down the sides, so that I have to place it on top of another (upside down) pot to allow the plumes of grass to cascade gracefully to the ground. Crack! down it came, breaking the glazed clay pot and snapping Charlie into action. Straight up the ironbark he went to the point about 3m above ground, where the side limb had been removed, leaving a nice little ledge for him to perch on. Well, this was good, he had a perfect view into the neighbours yard. He could see all those birdies in the bushes next door, he could see over the back fence to the creek and all the little duckies and moor hens settling for the night. He could see ... Whats that? Great big hairy bounding horrible noisy monsters leaping at the fence next door, red tongues lolling. spittles of drool flying as they howled and yapped and tongued at poor Charlie. Up went Charlies back and up the iron bark he advanced, with me watching helplessly 6 m below. Fortunately he recognised my voice and halted, then slid backwards down to his perch on the stump of the cut limb. The boys next door clambered up on the fence, little Tyler all excited and Lee ordering the dogs to calm down. Tyler thought Charlie was wonderful, perched up on the ironbark trunk and I took the opportunity to talk calmly and happily to the boys, while Charlie watched and assessed the situation, until he felt that it was safe to leave his perch. As dusk closed in he took a flying leap to ground and I coerced him into letting me scoop him up, his wild heart thumping against my forearm, eyes still startled and claws ready. Tyler did get a pat or two before we went inside.