Shhh! Scribbler at Work

HOME on the BIG Island

[prompt: 'home' 12/10/2018]

Nothing compared to the cheerful and enthusiastic clean-up of Ooroo's face and chest. A routine began on that first day after the rescue. Few memory pics compare in cuteness to the morning ablutions of these two. Candy thoroughly washed Ooroo's chin and mouth, then it was this sweet baby's turn to hold Candy's face with his delicate little paws, and lick off surplus droplets of milk clinging to her whiskers. They talked to each other constantly; he in clicks and her with gentle whines and soft 'woofs'.

"They really thought they were brother and sister... and you were their mother. Just like you were to all your pets and rescues."

As the joey grew in health, strength and courage, we would often hang his 'bedroom' [a de-constructed jumper, sewn to a coat-hanger to form a pouch], on the back of a chair in the sun on the verandah. Soon he was ready for his next great adventure—exploring his new world. Candy was always alongside to encourage him and prove to him how worthy of his love we all were.

Navigating jumping down one step from the verandah was a mammoth task, but once mastered, all manner of joys unfolded. Candy initiated and supervised exposure to the questionable delights of visiting pigs, goats, lambs, and poultry populating various areas of our house yard. Every time I went outside Candy followed me, close on my heels like a small dust cloud. Now Ooroo joined our small parade.

When he showed signs of comfortable acceptance of these ventures, Candy decided the time had come for him to discover the world of the paddock. She was adept at negotiating the ring-lock wire of the fences with a 'nose forward, twist of the body, flip the back legs through' action. Unfortunately, Ooroo's body design was somewhat more complex than his canine sister. Poking his head and front legs through was the easy part but not so the essential 'twist'. There was just too much of that little body to get horribly tangled.

I watched from a distance, entertained and deeply moved by their pantomime. Candy performed her manoeuvre and woofed from the other side of the fence. Ooroo tried various twists of his body—failed—worried—withdrew and clicked—and worried even more. Once again, Candy would patiently go through the entire routine— again, and again. Finally he mastered the technique, to be greeted by loud and exuberant barks, and vigorous and enthusiastic licking of his face. And they were off - to explore the 200 acre (80 hectare) paddock.

Our intrepid investigators created a daunting challenge for me. If Candy and Ooroo weren't within shouting distance by late afternoon, I needed to search the paddocks in our VW station wagon. The wanderers had to be home before dark. Sooner—or more often later, two familiar shapes would materialise in the shimmering distance. When they caught sight or sound of the car approaching, they would stop instantly and wait patiently for their 'taxi' to carry them home.

It was as if Candy said, "Here comes Mum... told you she'd be here before dark." I imagined Ooroo clicking enthusiastically several times in agreement - and relief.