Meet Joey

The wallaby Mum I mentioned is still coming in and resting by the house wall.

Despite my erratic comings and goings, sometimes away for days, she seems to feel quite secure there and doesn’t care what I do.

Her joey has its head out of the pouch more often, although not when Mum stretches out for a midday sleep.


And yesterday it happened: the joey and I locked eyes for the first time. It felt as momentous as when my babies suddenly focused on my face and I knew for sure that they knew me.

This joey and I — and therefore you all — are going to gain so much joy from our developing relationship. Well, we will — not sure how the joey will rate it!

6 thoughts on “Meet Joey”

  1. Hi DWG, yes the mum is totally unconcerned about me, so I hope she will breed a tribe of joeys who feel safe around me. I am so glad I opened those gates!

  2. I agree it is a real treat to have these wonderful creatures share your mountain. The mother looks so calm and content..she must realize for sure that she is in a safe place and will tend to things even while you are away. The little Joey is just awesome!! Great pics and thanks for taking the time to always share them!! DWG

  3. Yes Jenny, I think so: Eden, but without the ‘man’s dominion over other creatures’ idea to do the damage. Man wasn’t up to the job.

  4. What a privilege, Sharyn, to be able to share your space with such exquisite creatures. Isn’t this the way the world was meant to be? Jenny F.

  5. Hi Janet,
    Love the idea of naming the wallaby mum Josephine! Thanks for that sweet story, Janet. I do think the odd ones, the outcasts, seek company, like the rogue wallaby in my first book.
    But some are just opportunists: years ago, when we fed the horses outside the gate, the same wallaby would immediately appear, as if it had come to the call of ‘Feedo!’ too, and nibble at the overspill as they fed. We called him the Horse Wallaby.

  6. Delightful, can’t wait for more! We had a wallaby mum (and her joeys) for many years that seemed to live in our backyard when I was growing up on our farm. My mother named the mum Josephine and she had a deformed paw. She always seemed to appear when Mum was out and about in our yard, gardening or hanging up washing. It was almost as though she liked human company. Josephine was the one thing that Mum cried about when the farm was sold and they moved away.

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