Under a hotter Sun; Susie;

"Susie"
One day I found a female Wallaby lying on the side of the road. I got out of the car to check her. She had been hit by a car and was dead. She had a tiny Joe, confused, crawling all over her trying to get into her pouch. I always had an old blanket in the car for such an occurrence.
I bundled the Joe into the blanket and took it home. It was a female, she was tiny but she already had a nice fur. We called her Susie. I made a pouch for her from an old jumper and bolstered it out with a woollen blanket so she would be comfortable and warm.

I went to the Wildlife Services in Grafton. They gave me a permit to raise Susie. A bottle with a special dummy and instructions how, when and what to feed her. All went very well.

She liked her food. I took her in her pouch everywhere with me, even in the car to go shopping. I knotted the pouch to a coat hanger so I could hang her up on any hook or handle nearby. In the house I usually hung her on a doorknob.

She liked her pouch yet at night she would snuggle up with one of the girls. She would curl herself at their feet under the doona . Mainly she ended up in Lilli’s bed because Lilli had a special gentle nature with animals.

At first we fed Susie with the bottle. We mixed milk with finely ground chicken pellets and a few drops of lemon juice. She did very well and grew quickly to a naughty toddler. In the living room I had one wall covered with bookshelves. She did not read the books she liked to nibble the spines!

She was not at all an absolute herbivore. While she grazed I observed her digging for beetles and worms, which she ate with gusto.

She loved small pieces of steak or frankfurters sausage when we had a barbecue.

Her weakness were almonds. As soon as I was around she nuzzled into my hands and pockets to look for the nuts.
She grew well and soon was a teenager. She grew tame in a way but not absolutely, there was a certain wildness in her. She started to leave us for days. I was worried and went all over the place looking and calling her. Suddenly she came hopping, nuzzling my pockets for almonds. If I did not have any she was angry and boxed me with her paws.
And than there was sadly a time when she did not respond anymore to my calling.
I like to think she rejoined her relatives and lived happily ever after.

Photo TS.

Copyright TS.

Under a hotter Sun; The Road;

Ali and Tommy good mates.

The Road
The road leading to our property is called a “dirt road”. It winds its way from the
Highway through the bush. Its surface is rutted at certain stretches corrugated. The car bumps and clatters noisily like every nut and bolt were loose threatening to fall out. After a few trips the driver is ready to take on any stock car race. The drivers who use this road are not considerate drivers. In the dry season they drive at the height of their speed. In their wake clouds of dust settling on both sides of the road on shrubs and trees, leaving these breathless, poor ghosts waiting for the next rain to be washed clean.
When we were working near the road we usually laid a small tree over the road. This action brought a lot of swearing from the driver, as he had to slow down, stop and remove the tree. This was the intention of our action so the fine red dust would not suffocate us. Before we took this drastic action we were the ones coughing and sneezing, emerging from a red cloud, fighting for a breath of clean air.

We also had another option, that was by the first sound of a motor to leave our tools and run away from the dust, sit down and wait until the dust had settled, but that was very impractical, because once we laid down our tools, sat down and got used to the rest, it was very hard to get motivated to go back to this sort of work. Regarding our work ethics Peter opted for the first.
In the wet season this road runs with water, has deep ditches on the sides, holes in the middle treacherously filled with water.
I landed ones in a ditch while I was righting the milk bucket which had fallen on its side, While doing this I went a little to the left and slithered into the deep ditch, the car was lying on its side. I had to go and get Peter with his tractor to pull the car out.
When the road is slippery wet, the drivers slow down. This was a respite for all,
especially for the animals, who have the habit to live on both sides of the road.
On my trips to the bus stop to bring the girls to their school bus I saw sometimes a wallaby hit by a car. The mate would linger around for a few days, sit nearby and then disappear into the bush. I made the habit of it to always check if it was a female and perhaps a Joe in her pouch. Mainly male wallabies, mostly curious youngsters were hit. The females were much more cautious.

Under a hotter Sun; Melina, a dairy cow;

Every morning after I brought the girls to the school bus I went to the dairy farm to get a bucket of milk. One day I got a bucket of milk that was different than the usual milk. It was thick and very yellow and left long strands when I was pouring it into a jug.

Peter, when he was a lad had spent a lot of time at a dairy farm, so he knew instantly what was wrong with this milk. He said it was colostrum milk the calve feeds on when it is just born. This milk was not appetising and I did not use it. After that experience I said we should buy a dairy cow.
How nice it will be to milk our own cow and have fresh, frothy milk everyday. We asked our dairy farmer, Jean's, my gardener friend's husband, if he could sell us one of his dairy cows. He agreed and showed us a gorgeous looking dairy cow with lovely, brown eyes for seventy Dollars. She looked at us and said moo,

I thought what a good sign she agrees with us. The next day she was delivered. Jacky christened her Melina. She liked this name a lot and was keen to use one of the names since she had read an adventure story about Melina and Haska.
Melina was as stubborn as she was beautiful. She hated to be caught and we had to bribe her with the now famous blue bucket filled with corn. She also hated to be milked. She had not a clue what her duty was and did not like to be milked. She gave us only one meagre drop of milk. She did not like us one little bit. She kicked and pushed Peter until he said enough is enough my princess you are going to be tamed. Peter made a small wooden plank that was attached to a rope. It was not easy to fit it around the very reluctant neck of Melina. Now she can not run away we thought and with a lot of tender loving care she might consider us as her friends do her dairy cow job and let us milk her.
When Peter wanted to milk her, she was wild, threw around her weight and hit him with her "necklace" the wooden plank in his shins. With angry looks at him, she braced herself, started to scratch with her hooves and threw soil into the air. Peter had enough of her tantrums. He left her to calm down and the next day he took off her yoke and released her in the paddock with the Herefords.

She ran off looked back and poked her tongue out. With this ended our dream of frothing, fresh milk.
In winter she gave birth to a beautiful Frisian bull calf that she thoroughly spoiled with lots and lots of milk.
Unfortunately Melina had not a happy ending. When we had a drought,Melina was not in her best condition and fell between a drain. Peter wanted to lift her out but she had hurt herself and was not able to stand up anymore.
Peter had to put her out of her misery.