farmdoc's blog post number 314

Nowadays stereotyping is politically incorrect. But my iconoclastic tendencies still whisper to me that all billy goats are gruff. I suppose that’s because the Norwegian folk tale Three Billy Goats Gruff was often read to me when I was a nipper. (‘Trip trap’ is marvellously onomatopoeic. I chant it most times I walk over our bridge.) Anyway, long story short, experience’s taught me not all billy goats are gruff. Here in Mole Creek we’ve had maybe ten, with all but two as gentle as gentle. The gentlest of all was Otis, who was more friendly and inquisitive than many humans I know. When he died, Sharon and I cried. We buried him on a grassy bank visible from our house. Now to wombats: I’ve previously written about Otis the wombat who came under my care last Boxing Day preceded by a reputation for obstreperousness. In the two months since then he’s been totally friendly. Not one bit cranky. Otis the wombat is to wombats what Otis the billy goat was to billies. I thought Kai Kai was the most wonderful wombat I’ve known. Otis sure gives her a run for her money. Anyway Otis’s been signalling to me he wants to be released. So yesterday I obliged, making him the ninth wombat I’ve released – four boys, five girls. If he and Kai Kai make babies together, their littlies should be charmers. But maybe they won’t be. I’ll never know.