‘Thought you’d be pleased,’ Micky said. ‘He’s still got a way to go, but he’s doing well. And he’ll be happy back with his own kind. Joeys always do better in a group.’
‘Good,’ Ashley said.
‘How’s that puppy of yours going?’
Ashley smiled down at Scrap, who banged his tail on the floor again. ‘He’s fantastic. He’s the dog for me.’
‘Good. I’m glad it all worked out. Now listen, Ash, I spoke to your mum about the two of you coming up. She said the Easter holidays next year would be good. And that’s about the time Dexter will go to the first stage of release, if all goes well. So you’ll have a chance to see him before he goes back to the wild.’
‘Really?’ Ashley found herself grinning. ‘That would be fantastic, Micky.’
‘Good,’ Micky said. ‘Look, I’ve got things to do now so I’ll head off, but we’ll work out the details closer to the time, OK?’
‘Bye,’ Ashley said.
She hung up and looked down at Scrap. ‘You’ve been very patient. But now it’s time for a walk!’
Scrap leapt to his feet, barking joyously.
Emma was late for puppy class. Ashley stood waiting until the last possible moment, scanning the carpark, but there was no sign of her.
She joined the puppy class, and managed to calm Scrap so that he was almost walking at her heel when she heard a shout. She looked up to see Emma scrambling out of her parents’ car, tangled up in dog leads.
Bella and Billie tumbled out of the car behind her, barking excitedly, and dragged her across the grass. The three of them joined the class like a cyclone, scattering puppies and owners and creating havoc. It took a good five minutes before Emma had untangled the leads and Emma’s mother had come in to help, taking Billie so that Emma could focus on Bella.
The trainer asked them to halt, face the centre and have their dogs sit. Scrap was excited at seeing his newly arrived friends, but he sat down obediently, though he quivered. Bella and Billie showed no signs of sitting down at all. They pulled at their leads and barked and ran in circles.
Eventually Billie got sick of it and sat. Emma’s mother gave Ashley a smile and a wave. Ashley waved back.
It had worked out pretty well in the end, though the situation when she arrived home from Micky’s was challenging. Emma’s parents had indeed picked up Puppy the day they collected Bella. They had intended all along, they said, to just look after him until Ashley could have him. But something unexpected had happened.
Emma and her parents had come around the first night Ashley got home. They’d left the puppies behind, and sat in Ashley’s lounge room looking guilty.
‘The problem is, we’ve just fallen in love with Billie,’ Emma’s mother said. ‘He and Bella are two peas in a pod.’
‘We think it would be wrong to separate them,’ her father chipped in. ‘They’re devoted to each other. We realise we should have made the decision to buy two puppies from the start so they could keep each other company.’
Ashley’s mother frowned. ‘But Ashley chose that puppy. She’s got her heart set on him. This is an awful thing to do.’
‘We feel terrible about it. But you’d already decided you weren’t going to take him. Someone else would own him by now if we hadn’t collected him.’
‘Why don’t you just choose another puppy from the litter if you want two?’ Ashley’s dad asked.
‘The litter has gone. They’ve all been sold.’
‘I hardly think this is going to be good for the girls’ friendship,’ Ashley’s mother said. ‘Have you thought about that? It’s cruel.’
‘I’m sorry, Ash,’ Emma said, and her lip was trembling. ‘You do understand, don’t you?’
Ashley could see that they all felt bad about it. But not bad enough to change their minds. Rather to her surprise, she felt a rush of relief.
‘I’ve been thinking,’ she said. ‘I’ve still never met Puppy. I mean Billie. Maybe it’s meant to be.’
‘But Ashley!’ her mother interrupted. ‘You were devastated about losing him.’
Ashley nodded. ‘I was. But it was the idea of him. After all, I’d only seen him on the internet.’
‘Don’t you still want a dog?’ her father asked.
Ashley nodded emphatically. ‘Yes! But it doesn’t have to be Puppy. I mean Billie.’
The two families had looked at each other with dawning relief, and Ashley knew she was doing the right thing. ‘You keep Billie,’ she said. ‘It’s decided. I’m going to find another puppy.’
And she had. Scrap’s photo had been in the local paper the very next week under the heading Home wanted. He had a hairy brown face with a black muzzle and happy eyes. He was a rescue dog — an unwanted half-grown puppy who’d been given to the pound. No one could say what breed he was — scraps of everything, the pound person had said. But he’d turned out to be the best dog in the world. It was as if he and Ashley had been made for each other.
When she finally did meet Puppy — Billie — she knew she’d made the right decision. Oh, he was cute. Really cute. But it was true that he and Bella were inseparable. And she didn’t feel a connection with him. Not the way she did with Scrap.
The puppy class eventually finished and Emma and her mother walked over to join Ashley. The three pups started rolling over each other in the grass and pretending to bite each other.
‘Is your mother going to drop you over later?’ Emma asked.
Ashley shook her head. ‘I’ll walk. As long as you still want to take Scrap now.’
Emma’s mother smiled. ‘No problem. Scrap can come on a playdate anytime. We’re making pizza for dinner, OK?’
‘Great,’ Ashley said. ‘I’ll see you after work.’
She handed Scrap’s lead to Emma, who set off after the three puppies.
‘You’re a good girl, Ashley,’ Emma’s mother said. ‘We’re very grateful there’s no hard feelings.’
Ashley smiled. ‘My aunt said the right dog chooses you.’
She turned away and set out across the park. It had been hard, choosing to give up her Saturday afternoons for this job, especially with a new pup. But they’d worked out a routine: Scrap went home with Emma after puppy class, and Ashley went to Emma’s place for dinner after work. So far, so good, as Micky would say.
Finding the job had been kind of like finding the dog. When she’d walked into the pound and seen Scrap, she’d known he was the right pet for her. Then, when her parents had been paying for him at the front desk, she’d seen the sign: Volunteer carer needed for rescue animals Saturday afternoons 1.30–4.30 pm.
Somehow she’d known it was the right job for her too. She’d only worked twice, but so far it had been a bit like looking after Dexter. You had to give the animals the sort of love that they understood, and be willing to say goodbye to them. She had the feeling she was going to be good at it.
She looked back over her shoulder. All the way across the park, Scrap turned his head and looked at her. Even at that distance, she could see the love in his eyes.
An image of Dexter’s inquiring brown eyes flashed in her mind and she found herself smiling. He was with his own kind now. She wondered if he was happy.
He tests his claws on the bark. It’s still not springy to the touch like the trees he distantly remembers climbing with his mother.
But this one has different smells and when he sniffs the air, he realises there are other koalas close by. He raises his head and sees a face peering down at him.
Hello.
Hello, he replies.
Come up.
He clambers up slowly, his nostrils twitching, until he reaches the first fork. The joey perched there is the same size as him and they touch noses. Another young one scrambles down to join them and touches his nose too.
Where did you come from?
Somewhere else.
Do you want to play?
The first koala bounds up through the leaves. The other follows and Youngster hesi
tates only a second before bounding up behind them. Before he reaches them in the higher fork, both have leapt across to other branches, and he feels a rush of pleasure as he flings himself into the air and lands, claws spread, below the first one.
The game is fast, and he delights in companions who climb the way he does, who leap and bound, who chase him as high as the top branches and almost to the ground, until the three of them are spent.
Come, the first one says.
The two of them press together in the fork and he clambers in with them, wriggling until all three are bundled together, gripping each other. There is fur against fur, warmth, the scent of koala filling his nostrils. He hasn’t felt like this since he was with his mother.
Do you have a mother? he asks.
No, the first one answers.
What is a mother? the second asks.
One of us, but bigger. She looks after you. Feeds you. Teaches you.
I’m sleepy, the second says. The mother will come to feed us later. Let’s rest.
They both close their eyes, and their heads nod.
Youngster is too excited to sleep. He looks around. In the distance he can see other trees and smell the scents of the forest. He can see the moon slanting up over the hills and the faint glimmer of stars overhead.
The wind, his old friend, is back, caressing his fur and whispering to him of everything that lies out there beyond the tree.
His eyelids droop and he feels himself drawn down into the sleepy warmth of his new friends. Later, they will play again. Later, they will eat. Now, it is time for rest.
His head drops and he leans in to the familiar warmth of fur.
After you read this book …
One day, a while after moving into a house with a big garden in Byron Shire in northern New South Wales, I spotted a koala sitting in a forest red gum just over the fence. It was a thrilling moment — before then I’d only seen koalas in the wild a couple of times. As I got to know ‘Elsie’ over the next few months, I watched her roam around the rural neighbourhood, spending a few days in each tree before moving on. She became a household favourite, delighting my partner and me by hanging out in two trees, one of which was close to our verandah. Her presence prompted us to join a koala habitat program and plant a forest of koala food trees.
However, over time we could see that Elsie had symptoms of chlamydia, a disease that kills many koalas. Elsie was finally able to be captured by a volunteer rescuer from our local koala protection group (Friends of the Koala), but by that time, she was very ill. After a week in the Friends of the Koala’s care centre in Lismore, Elsie had to be put down.
I learnt that Elsie wasn’t an isolated case. My local care group responds to hundreds of calls each year and rescues more than three hundred koalas, with support from a local vet who volunteers his time to examine every koala. Some koalas are rehabilitated at the care centre, while others (including all joeys) are looked after by highly experienced individual carers. The nearest specialist wildlife medical facility, Currumbin Wildlife Sanctuary Hospital, also sees around three hundred koalas every year, as well as caring for the captive koalas in the Currumbin Wildlife Sanctuary.
While some rescued adult and joey koalas can be saved and re-released, a very large number are too ill or injured to make it. Given that the population of koalas in the coastal strip is shrinking — with a recent survey estimating there are only two hundred and forty koalas left in the Byron Local Government Area — it’s true that every individual koala is important.
Koalas living in Queensland, New South Wales and the Australian Capital Territory were listed as ‘vulnerable’ in 2012 under Australia’s national environment law because their numbers are declining (though in some other areas — such as parts of Victoria — numbers are increasing). This gives extra protection to the species by requiring that new developments consider their impacts on koalas. Those that will have too much impact on koala populations will not be approved.
Elsie inspired me to learn more about koalas and to write this story. Her favourite tree sat empty for about six months after she died. But just as I began writing Dexter: The Courageous Koala, another koala arrived and decided that he liked the look of the place. Over the past two months I’ve watched one — and at times two — koalas hanging out in Elsie’s favourite tree, and heard them grunting at night. I’m pleased to report that both appear to be very healthy.
One more thing — if you do find a sick or injured koala (or any other native creature) — don’t pick it up yourself. Wild creatures, especially injured ones, can be unpredictable, and handling them the wrong way can be dangerous for you and the animal. Call your local wildlife care organisation for advice and rescue support. You can be prepared by downloading the Wildlife Rescue App to your smartphone; this will put you in direct contact with your nearest rescue organisation.
The phrase ‘drop bear’ describes a very large Australian marsupial, related to the koala, that attacks its prey by dropping on its head from above. Although drop bears are fictitious, if you google ‘drop bear’ you will find that the Australian Museum has a webpage describing them (this is where the name Thylarctos plummetus comes from), and Australian Geographic once ran a spoof story claiming that drop bears are less likely to attack people with Australian accents.
Thank you
Friends of the Koala (FOK) is a non-profit community group run by volunteers dedicated to conserving koalas in the Northern Rivers of New South Wales. Members of FOK were extremely helpful in sharing their knowledge while I was researching this book. Care coordinator Pat Barnidge and volunteer Susannah Keogh (who rescued a joey called Dexter, along with several other koalas after ex-tropical Cyclone Oswald hit the Northern Rivers in January 2013) gave me a tour of the centre and answered my many questions. Joey carer Barbara Dobner let me meet the three joeys she had in care, answered my questions and was kind enough to read the manuscript.
Michael Pyne, the veterinary surgeon at Currumbin Wildlife Sanctuary Hospital, took time from his busy schedule to show me through the hospital and describe how injured koalas are treated when brought in.
The advice from all the people above has been precious, and any errors contained in the story are mine.
Thank you to the publication team at HarperCollins, including Lisa Berryman and Kate Burnitt, my editor Kate O’Donnell, and my agent Sophie Hamley.
As always, big thanks to my beloved partner, Andi Davey, who delights me with love, support and cuddles, and whose hard work on our new forest will be appreciated by the local koalas when the trees are big enough for them to eat.
Excerpt from Stay: The Last Dog in Antarctica
‘I’m lonely … and I dream of adventures.’
Left on the streets of Hobart to collect money for the Royal Guide Dogs, a fibreglass Labrador called Girl dreams of adventure.
One night some rowdy Antarctic expeditioners walk past and before she knows it, Girl has been dognapped and smuggled aboard the Aurora Australis. She is headed south with a new Antarctic nickname — Stay.
But Antarctica throws up more adventures than Stay ever imagined. She’s slimed by King Neptune, picked on by Antarctic huskies, dropped, repaired, hidden, flown, chained up, liberated, befriended, lost and betrayed. Will she ever make it back to Australia with the money she’s raised for the Guide Dogs?
This book by award-winning author Jesse Blackadder is based on the true story of Stay, who was smuggled to Antarctica in 1991 and is still having adventures there today.
AVAILABLE NOW
Excerpt from Paruku: The Desert Brumby
From deep in the desert comes a legend of wild brumbies who can run like the wind …
Twelve-year-old Rachel is fast outgrowing her first pony. When her father, a horse vet, is offered the job of capturing wild brumbies for the endurance stables of one of Dubai’s Sheiks, Rachel travels with her dad into the remote desert landscape of the Kimberley.
Captivated by the wild power and majesty of the young b
ay stallion Paruku and his herd, Rachel is torn by the prospect of taking away their freedom.
But is there a chance she could keep Paruku for herself?
This moving tale by award-winning author Jesse Blackadder is inspired by the true story of the Kimberley brumbies and their journey to Dubai.
AVAILABLE NOW
About the Author
Jesse Blackadder wanted to be a vet from the age of five, but ended up becoming a writer. She lives near an extinct volcano in northern New South Wales, and shares her very big garden with a water dragon called Kinky, a koala called Blinky, a python called Slinky and lots of other wild creatures.
Books by Jesse Blackadder
Stay: The Last Dog in Antarctica
Paruku: The Desert Brumby
Copyright
The ABC ‘Wave’ device is a trademark of the
Australian Broadcasting Corporation and is used
under licence by HarperCollinsPublishers Australia.
First published in Australia in 2015
This edition published in 2015
by HarperCollinsChildren’sBooks
a division of HarperCollinsPublishers Australia Pty Limited
ABN 36 009 913 517
harpercollins.com.au
Copyright © Jesse Blackadder 2015
The right of Jesse Blackadder to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by her in accordance with the Copyright Amendment (Moral Rights) Act 2000.
This work is copyright. Apart from any use as permitted under the Copyright Act 1968, no part may be reproduced, copied, scanned, stored in a retrieval system, recorded, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written permission of the publisher.
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