Before I get my fellow animal lovers writing to me in
horror, let me remind you- my motorhome is called The Grey Chihuahua. However,
she was most distressed, let me tell you. And so was I, being woken up in the
middle of the night as the Grey Chihuahua rocked and rolled to the passion of
this hairy, uncouth beast. Up and down I bounced, an extremely unwilling
participant in this unnatural threesome. As soon as I could, I jumped out of
bed and grabbed the torch, and ran to the rear, right wheel. Alas, too late, as
I glimpsed a hairy large backside
shambling off into the night. Very satisfied with itself, it indulged in a
congratulatory scratch on the arse as it went. I tried to console the Grey
Chihuahua that she was still perfect… and no-one would ever know! But, as if
that wasn’t bad enough, it was not the only time that night. Three times! By
the third time, though, I was ready, torch in hand, and caught him in the act.
Giving him a pungent piece of my mind, I expected a shamefaced retreat. Not a
bit of it. He turned his head slowly round, his beady little eyes squinting
into the light… but it didn’t stop. The Grey Chihuahua was nearly shaking to bits
by now, and no amount of
‘shooing’ worked. Finally he stopped rubbing himself
against her , turned his head again, and after giving me what looked very much
like a sneer, moved away. I didn’t know what to say to my poor Grey Chihuahua,
and just patted her helplessly instead. But then I had an idea. I sprayed her
wheels with flyspray! Well, have you got any better ideas how to stop a wombat having his way with a wheel? Anyway, it seemed to work.
There was no more unsolicited
heaving that night. However, when I arose the next day and bent under the
chassis to assess the damage, I found…. The little bastard had been back and
shat everywhere! There were turds from back to front! I swear, although I love
animals……..
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| This poor little thing had bright red eyes and ears and patches |
When I explained all this to the Ranger the next day, he
seemed particularly unresponsive. Then in a strange, strangled voice said that
the wombats do have fleas and may even suffer from mange (caught from foxes,
they believe) and do tend to rub themselves a lot. And I did see one poor, very
pink, little wombat, with hairless patches which I reported to wildlife rescue,
as it is a terrible affliction, but have heard nothing yet. But, although the
wombat that night may have been relieving an itch- I don’t believe for one
minute, it was the mange itch.
Where was I when all this happened? Well I had just spent
the previous night at wonderful Shoalhaven Zoo, just outside Nowra. Incredible
value at $12 for a powered site with drinking water, hot shower, café and
fabulous scenery. Not to mention the Zoo being on the doorstep to visit. The
rolling, verdant hills to my front and wide, tranquil river behind me made it
just beautiful. I particularly liked my neighbours there… . the many white galahs, peacocks and magpies, who
entertained and kept me company on my stay. The staff at the Zoo and other
campers were very friendly and helpful too, which always adds to the enjoyment
of a place.![]() |
| Meroogal in Nowra |
I might have stayed there another day, but the next day it
started to rain. Not drizzle, or slight downpour- no this deluge came in heavy,
incessant, sheets of water. I had wanted to go to Bendeela Reserve, a free camp
in Kangaroo Valley in any case, as I had heard about the many wombats you could
see there (little did I know!) and once the rain had abated a little, decided
to make my getaway. Fortunately the torrential downfall seemed to be limited to
Nowra.
Unfortunately I hadn’t realized that to get to Kangaroo Valley meant
going up some exceptionally winding, mountainous, narrow roads! By the time we
got to Kangaroo Valley town, which is a very pretty little, old worldly,
village -full of cafes, antiques and specialty shops- I just wanted to find the
reserve and bunk down for the evening. Again- it pays to do your homework. I
didn’t. Bendeela Reserve is another 10Km out of the township! And so we continued The Grey Chihuahua and I.
However, the first appearances, when we finally reached the
Reserve, were very optimistic. It was one of huge, spacious grassy areas,
interspersed with some quite artistically placed black rocks! The roads were a
little rough and ready but what could you expect, it was in the middle of
nowhere. There were several other caravans, tents, campers and motorhomes
already there, but the place was so big you could have a grassed area all to
yourself, if you wanted to. On further inspection I found some surprisingly
clean toilets and many fresh water taps. And a great view overlooking the river. We
were set. The Grey Chihuahua and I looked out over the mist laden mountains
around us, awed with their beauty and majestic silence. Flocks of wild ducks
walked unimpeded and unimpressed between us all, and kangaroos bobbed up and
down in the sweet meadows around the reserve. I couldn’t wait to see the
wombats!......
Two days later- having seen and definitely met the wombats,
we left this haven of tranquility in search of….. less wombats. Though I will
always love these wonderful creatures, I feared for the Grey Chihuahuas ,er,…
undercarriage.
So to all my animal lover friends- love and protect our wonderful wombats.
The Grey Chihuahua










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