Friday's Report:

One week on since our fragile scrap of Wombat was rescued, and it seems we can be pretty certain that Forrest has turned the corner and is into the straight.

This big burrow is the oldest & largest in the community in our creek banks. It would contain several tunnels and dens, extending many tens of metres into the earth.

I had just departed for my meeting this afternoon, leaving Bill at the drawing board with Ascha & Aerem & Ruby & Sammy for company, when Porscha phoned. I missed the conversation, of course, but it was all good news. Better than that, it's exciting!

He's begun to get serious about food. Porscha said that after I had left (my last visit being two days ago now), Forrest took his next bottle with gusto, and hasn't looked back. He is now well hydrated, peeing and pooing nicely, and no scouring* has yet occurred. At this rate of improvement, it may not even happen.

*(Scouring - very loose stools, diarrhoea by any other name, and highly dangerous in baby Australian animals such as Little Mr F, and a known killer of our native species when brought into rescue - it often occurs because of stress combined with the 'new' feeding regime, ie, not his mother's milk.

Like any similar condition, it causes dehydration very rapidly and can be difficult to reverse.

Whilst Forrest is still not out of those woods, he's running in the right direction. Oops, perhaps 'running' is not quite the terminology here. Let's not tempt Fate.)

To keep his wound open and prevent it from healing too rapidly from the outside, whilst the inside is not yet healed, and because his furcoat is a bit stinky from his various ordeals, Little Forrest Wombat got his first . . . wait for it . . . his first BATH. Oh my lord ----- the sky nearly fell in.

He was one FURIOUS wombat.

But he calmed down and let himself be cuddled dry, smooched upon, and fed again. Not so very bad, after all.

Years of use by steadily-padding paws create wombat highways. Steep slopes such as this one, which is almost vertical, are easily negotiated - wombats have a very low centre of gravity.

He's obviously got it all worked out though. It's called PayBack. He waits till Porscha has drifted off to sleep after the midnight feed, and then the fun begins. A noisy round of bashing up his burrow-basket in his crate, chittering all kinds of rude Wombat words, leaping vertically from a four-square-paw standing start, and bouncing around like a little brown balloon on a string.

Porscha is thrilled. I rather think that Forrest has her completely woven around his little sooty paws, but of course that goes without saying. He's got all of us there.

So let's hear it for Little Forrest Wombat ---- Run Forrest, Run!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

And more dollars than ever again today. YOU are all the Stars of this amazing story. You are generous and caring beyond words.

Sue, very very happy to be sharing Forrest's progress with each of you. Run Forrest, Run!

GO TOPAGE 8