A carer rang me in a panic one night. She had quite a story to tell. She had been down at the pub earlier that night, and had met a man who was already half shot, and he had told her that he had a joey out the back of the pub, in a plastic bag, next to his dog. And the milk he had for the joey was off, and the joey was sick. He had shot the mother to get her, his intention was to take her to the city and sell her to one of his friends.
Well my friend the carer nearly had kittens at this news, so she set about getting him even further under the weather, she was determined to get the joey away from him using fair methods or foul. After a while, she convinced him that the joey should go home with her for the night. So before he could change his mind, she took the joey and ran. The first thing she did when she got home, was clean the poor joey up, and put her in a clean pouch (not a plastic bag), and organise some fresh milk for her. Then she rang me. It was fairly late by this stage, but we decided the joey should not stay there, in case he came looking for her, which he did. She left her place very early and brought her down to me, and got home to discover that he had been round, and her hubby had said that the joey had been taken to another carer because it had taken a turn for the worse, but he had no idea where the carer was. Thank the Lord…… He of course wanted the joey back, and pestered her for quite some time, but the joey had gone, so it was safe from him.
Anyway, the joey. Poor little mite was very thin, and very sick, and I really didn’t know whether she would survive. She looked stunted as well, so I knew she would have an uphill battle. I had a lot of trouble keeping her warm, and of course, I couldn’t feed her full strength milk till her tummy started behaving. The previous carer had called her Lucky, because she had had a lucky escape, but I wasn’t sure how lucky Lucky would be. But she fought for her life, and lived up to her name.
She grew, slowly, but I had trouble keeping her warm for ages, and often I would find her lying down in the hot sun, when everyone else had headed for the shade. While she didn’t exactly thrive, she made slow but steady progress. After a while another joey arrived. They were round the same age, but this new one was much bigger. We called her Honey, because she was a sweet little thing. As usual, they soon became the closest of friends. They were both Eastern Grey Kangaroos, and as such were herd animals and benefited from each others’ company.
By the time summer was over, Honey had started growing her winter coat. Lucky didn’t. This was a worry, because both were living outside by now, and I was worried what would happen when the frosts started. Normally, the act of living outside was enough to start the coat thickening up, but not this time. So I rang a lady who was very knowledgeable in the ways of roos, and she suggested making her a “thickshake” of roo milk, combined with baby cereal. She took to it straight away, and would drain every drop, and look for more. And it did the trick. After a couple of weeks of this, her fur started to thicken up. Whew! I wouldn’t have to make her winter pyjamas after all!
Just before the winter set in properly, I moved the pair of them to their next home. They took the move well, but the new carer was concerned about Lucky’s lack of size, and wondered whether she should hold them back until Lucky had increased in stature. So we tried that, but it became very obvious, that after meeting the wild roos through the fence, they really wanted to go. They were both pacing the fence constantly, and we realised we would have to chance it with Lucky. She was at a size that was still vulnerable to fox attack. So the gate was opened, and they started coming and going, until eventually they went altogether. However the group of roos they joined used to come past there on a fairly regular basis, every few weeks. I got a very excited phone call from the carer, Leeanne, telling me that they had been back, and both the “girls” had bumps in their pouches, and the bumps were wiggling! Then one day I was out visiting Leeanne, and her hubby came racing in saying the roos were back, and come look, because the joeys had their heads out. So we both rushed out to look, and there was Lucky with a little joey, grazing. We were all delighted to see her again, and to know she had really made it.
Leeanne kept me up to date on Lucky’s exploits, and some time later I was visiting, and the word came that the roos were back. This time, there was Lucky, and the previous joey, whom by this time was at foot, and almost as big as her, and she had a little one whose head was out of the pouch. The bigger joey started doing something that Lucky disapproved of, so she promptly whacked her. The joey, now chastened, behaved in a suitable manner, as the herd hopped off. She had certainly succeeded, now an experienced mother of two.
My mother in law always said, “Good things come in small packages”. I’m sure she wasn’t referring to small kangaroos when she said that, but it was certainly appropriate for Lucky……
Mamaroo's Diary 