My house wallaby’s joey is venturing more than its head out now. From the low-slung safety and warmth of the pouch, it projects its front legs and paws, touching the grass.
Big soft ears turning, nose sniffing, eyes alert, our joey is growing up fast. Its fur is still fine, not enough to keep it warm in these 10-14 degree autumn days. On the cusp of babyhood, it has the best of both inside and outside worlds, able to try touch and taste, but retreat to snooze, suckle and be safe.
I am always astonished at how big the joeys are when their mothers continue to allow them to ride in the pouch. This one has a way to grow yet the pouch is barely clearing the ground now. Tussock country can’t be easy with a gangly joey swinging below.
Hi Trev,
Yes, that was a poignant possum pic.
Thanks for the good wishes; on the road a bit still. Not thinking very far ahead at present.
Cheers!
Hi Sharyn, what beaut pictures of the wonderful progress called life. A very apt antidote for the sad snaps of the last days of the possum (how the blazers do you spell possum) photographed raiding your bird feeder. I still find that pic quite moving. All the best to you (when you gunna be back in Laguna?). Best from Trev.
Amen!
Awww! How cute!!