Gangster
Some years ago I purchased some land in a place call Ghin Ghin, which is in the north-central part of Victoria, Australia, and I built a house there.
The property was seven and a half kilometers down a very bad dirt road, in a valley surrounded on all sides by hills, and there were days when the mist did not lift until late in the afternoon.
You can see part of the road in this image (actually, one of the better parts!!), and my house was down in that pool of mist towards the end of the road.
When you actually arrived at my place, particularly on a clear day, you could see all the way down the valley and beyond; sometimes, it seemed, forever - unless, of course, it was one of those (frequently) misty days!!
The nights were peaceful and the sunsets, particularly through the trees, could be quite beautiful.
Since the place was so isolated it was generally very quiet, apart from the sounds of nature.
I must admit that, the first time I heard a male koala grunting and carrying on - like most males, koalas apparently think that making a great racket will attract the females, although female koalas must be tone-deaf if they appreciate that noise!! - I thought that I was being invaded by a horde of wild boars!
Of course, most of the other neighbours were much quieter. This included a fair number of snakes - although the thing about snakes is that, as long as you leave them in peace, they are quite happy to ignore you and go their own way - together with some, far cuter, lizards and echidnas.
My favourite neighbour, however, was a male Black Swamp Wallaby who came to be called Gangster.
Because I am a vegetarian, and not a very good gardener (compost bin, what is a compost bin??), I tended to dump all the vegetable peelings over the fence at the front of my place, so the local creatures could eat them.
One of those creatures was Gangster. He got that name because he was the boss wallaby amongst the locals, and he made sure that he had first pick of any of the food I left out. Any other wallaby that tried to take anything, before he had eaten what he wanted, was soon chased away, normally with a clip over the ear for good measure.
After I had been leaving food out for a while Gangster started coming in under the end gate and waiting for his daily feed.
Eventually, rather than waiting for me to put the food out, he would take it from my hands.
He had a particular liking for bread - although I had to be careful because it was not really good for him, so it was a matter of making sure he mainly ate his vegetables, with the bread serving as a treat. He would hold a slice of bread in his front paws, and happily munch away on it.
Gangster basically made my home his home and, during the hot summer days, he would lie down at the back of the house, between the house and the retaining wall where it was nice and cool.
My friend Sue bought a couple of containers (actually kitty-litter trays), and I arranged to have some food and water always available on the front verandah for him.
As happens to all of us, Gangster grew older and eventually lost his dominant position amongst the wallabies. From then on my place also became something of an "old-wallabies home" for him, a place where he could get food with minimal effort and was safe.
This actually led to The Confrontation, and the only time I have ever hit another living creature.
Pretty Boy had replaced Gangster as the top wallaby, and was also coming to my place for some snacks. Eventually he decided that he was going to oust Gangster from his privileged position, and that meant showing him who was now the boss.
I had just taken some food outside and Gangster had come to me to get his share. Pretty Boy had decided that it was now the time for him to take over the top job, and he tried to chase Gangster away. Instead, Gangster simply ducked behind me and, every time Pretty Boy tried to get near him, he moved again so that I was always between him and Pretty Boy.
Pretty Boy finally got tired of this "game" and decided that enough was enough, so he tried to go straight through me to get to Gangster. Given the claws and strength of a male wallaby, he wasn't all that serious about having a go at me - more of a warning that I had better get out of his way.
However the claws marks I got were quite sufficient to ruffle my feelings, and I decided that if anyone was going to be "top wallaby" it was going to be me, so I grabbed the hiking stick I used when walking and "clobbered" Pretty Boy. Like his attack, mine was fairly restrained and simply consisted of a couple of jabs to his body and a good deal of yelling. Nonetheless, it convinced him that attacking me was not a good idea, and he backed off very quickly.
During all of this kerfuffle Gangster maintained his cool and, when the dust had settled and Pretty Boy had taken to his heels, Gangster happily settled down to his interrupted meal.
Pretty Boy continued to come to my place for food, but was somewhat wary of me, and Gangster remained the master of his home.
He remained there, enjoying his elderly years in peace, until I finally found him near the gate - he appeared to have simply died peacefully of old age.
Gangster was a good friend and my relationship with him brought me much pleasure during the time I lived at Ghin Ghin.
I missed him after he was gone and, although I continued to feed the other wallabies, I never got as close to one as I had to Gangster.
I like to remember him, lying beside one of the retaining walls, at his leisure; the top wallaby, surveying his domain.
