This is me and Logophile regular Ford,
hanging out together back in the very early ’70’s.
The mother, known as “Big Lil” for future reference, was a Conservationist so as far as i know we could have been on water rations. Most likely we were arguing over a teenee tinee bucket of water and she was yelling at us to get into the bloody shower.
The scratch on my precious monkey forehead was from (and i shit you not) an escaped kangaroo that lived up the road with a university lecturer working with roos for the purpose of science. It ducked out of his yard, headed down the quiet suburban street and bounded into our backyard.
Apparently, (i was 2 years old at the time) i heard the commotion and took off out the backdoor and straight across to the clothesline where the symbol of all things australian was hanging around.
Skippy tried to pat me, which is competely understandable because my inner beauty shone through even back then. He hadn’t factored in his fucking ginormous nails and had i not closed my eyes probably would have been “wooden eye” instead of monkeypants.
So that is the true story of my close escape from a wild australian beast. I am a virtual farking Steve Irwin when you think about my connection with nature.
I have included an original Skippy video for you because i have such a strong connection with native animals.