Saturday, 2 August 2014

I'm a bit in love with this one - Aristotle goes to sea

When I was a little girl, my family and I wandered regularly in the mountainous bush behind our home. One day we found a young possum, fallen from a tree with an injured leg. My father, a veterinarian, made a weeny possum-sized splint and we feed this tiny bush baby from an eye-dropper in our home until it healed and regained its strength. We named him ‘Arry’ - short for Aristotle (because he came from on high). I remember vividly the day we released him and how he looked back at us, wide eyes blinking, before bounding off into the Australian bush.

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