Excerpt from Chapter Two - 'Kangaroo Rescue' in my farming memoirs - 'Old McLarsen had some Farms... Book1- Brave Beginnings' [Link in Comments below if you would like the whole story].

Snoopy was simply one more of the hapless and helpless victims to experience the same rude interruption to what should have been his natural life. Safe and warm in his mother's pouch one minute; abruptly swung and jolted as she tried to bound to refuge and freedom; then her sudden hard fall that had to hurt, despite his ample cushioning. Harsh hands searched for him in what had been his sanctuary. But then he was found, and pulled rudely from the familiar warmth into the horror of blinding light, and gruff and alien sounds. The smell of fear thickened the swirling dust all around, as his captor triumphantly held him high for the others to see.

"I'll just put this little bugger out of his misery," he said, taking a firm grasp of the baby's tail as he spoke, moving towards a nearby tree. Horror filled my heart. I could see what he planned.

Guest or not, I couldn't control myself any longer. My fury boiled over and I exploded out of the cab, physically and verbally. I don't remember my words, but the feeling of outrage is with me still. I snatched the baby from him and bundled the confusion of legs and tail into my jumper, clutching this newly orphaned joey close to my heaving chest. It was a confronting moment.

It was unimaginable this shivering, woebegone, skeletal creature—wearing only the lightest covering of fur—would survive the stack of odds against him. But nothing was going to stop my Snoopy from steadily growing into a big Red Kangaroo, taller than most humans, but always and ever, a gentle giant. In his early growth, he would melt at the sound of my voice, and the touch of my hands. In Snoopy's eyes, we were mother and son. Out of tragedy grew the triumph of his survival.