[prompt: 'first' 8/3/2019]

The baby was simply one more of the hapless and helpless victims to experience the same rude interruption to his natural life. Safe and warm in his mother's pouch one minute, then abruptly swung and jolted as she frantically sought freedom. Her final fall must have hurt, despite his ample cushioning.

Harsh hands searched his sanctuary, to find him and pull him from the familiar warmth into the horror of blinding light, and its gruff and alien sounds. The smell of fear thickened the swirling dust 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 the nearest tree. Horror filled my heart. I just couldn't handle what I could see he planned.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

This first kangaroo rescue happened on a weekend getaway on Barry's farm, and so our precious 'ugly duckling' had to come with us to the city for some weeks until our planned move to the country.

He soon adapted to somersaulting into his new home - a roomy, knitted nylon shopping bag substitute for his mother's pouch. Warm and the right shape, and using changeable rag liners, it proved a perfect choice. Thanks to its handles and close-over tab, transportation proved an easy task for his new human parents. An added benefit was its 'hang-ability' on a doorknob wherever we went.

Snoopy was an obvious name choice due to his delightful habit of popping that dear little face out of his 'bedroom' to take a peek at an alien world. Whether in the great outdoors or indoors, he was a most curious little chappy - sweet-tempered and loveable.

In those early years of our marriage as we danced our way through a constant barrage of parties, Snoopy's crucial 3-4 hourly feed routine, dictated he become the basic 'party animal'. We've all heard those words and some of us believe they were born due to his incredible social life. How he loved his brave new world... especially as he was always the centre of attention.

Many a bosom heaved with previously undiscovered maternal longings after a cuddle of Snoopy, and many a heart was lost... drowned in his huge soft eyes clearly reflecting his joyous reciprocation of their feelings. He expressed his love by a multitude of soft clicks of his tiny pink tongue until his feeding began. The hardest of hearts were doomed when he clasped tiny claws around the fingers holding his bottle, eyes dreamy with bliss.

When bedtime came, his home was hung on a doorknob in a spare bedroom. The only reluctance to say goodnight came from his admirers. Snoopy had loved every moment, but like all babies, sleep was top of his agenda.

For some reason, our presence was in great demand on the party circuit. Surely we had a charm or two of our own, and were not dependent solely on the appeal of this baby, his huge, questioning eyes, tiny shrunken face, and impossible puzzle of long, skinny limbs going every which way?

Surely??

Author's Note: Maybe some readers would like to see my first little chap all grown up? Some years later when we had moved far away, our friend sent us this photo of my Snoopy -  now over 6 foot tall - a Big Red - a true 'Old Man Roo'