Stories
A Wombat Called Fuddles
by Linda Dennis
 Fuddles attacking mum "ugg" clad foot  First stages of exploring  Fuddles attacking dads "ugg" clad foot  Fuddles could sleep anywhere  Bonding time with Todd  Fuddles inside his very first burrow  Fuddles outside his very first burrow  Home is where the boot is  Fuddles at his cliff burrow  Fuddles, the mischief maker  Fuddles, back for a visit  A treat for Fuddles  Fuddles has grown! | Meet
Fuddles, my very first male Bare-Nosed Wombat. This
little guy was quite similar to the girls I have raised (Tici, Keti & Alu),
only he had a hell of a lot more oomph - I'm guessing it was all that testosterone! When
I first laid eyes on Fuddles I thought he was a nightmare. He was a bundle of
energy that seemed to attack any ankle that moved - mine included! Truthfully
- it didn't take me (or Todd) long to fall madly in love with him. Wombats have
always held a soft spot in our hearts. When
Keti or Alu (smaller than Fuddles) turned into balls of bad behaviour I'd would
turn them around and point their noses in the opposite direction and this normally
stopped them as they became interested in something else, or each other. Not with
Fuddles! As
he streaked quicker than lightening and latched onto my barely covered ankles
I whisked him around and pushed him in the opposite direction, quite smug in my
wombat handling abilities! Nanoseconds later he was there again, firmly gripping
my flesh with his sharp teeth. OK, all smugness gone - never underestimate an
attack wombat! Fuddles
started his "human life" with a family in the Central West of NSW. Vez,
Fuddles first "human mum", absolutely adored him but realised it was
time for him to move on. He was 7 kilo's of lovable trouble but Vez' neighbours
had had enough of him! He was already starting to wander away from home, probably
a little too early really. At that weight a wombat is still "fox fodder",
so to speak - too small to be able to defend himself if he had met a hungry fox
or dog, or another cranky wombat. But he was a stubborn thing (that testosterone
again?) and really didn't like being enclosed in a pen, so to save the house from
being torn apart Vez allowed him to have his wandering way - and lucky for Fuddles
those hungry foxes and cranky wombats didn't find him! One
day, not long before I collected Fuddles to bring him back to Fourth Crossing,
Vez found him in the back of the neighbours ute. Some time later, after rescuing
Fuddles, Vez found out that he had made a lovely burrow - under the neighbours
house! They had planned on taking him further out in the country and leaving him
there. A plan which would have led to disaster - it was lucky that Vez found him
in time. The survival rate for a wombat "hard release" is quite low
- normally ending in a fatality either by an attack from a local adult wombat,
exposure to the elements (extreme cold or hot weather) or pining away for "mum".
Wombats stay at their mothers heals until they are around 12-19kg in weight (depending
on the individual), the release weight being the same. And
so... Fuddles came to live with us.
With Fuddles came the big box that he was raised in, all his blankets, some of
his favourite food, milk powder and Vez's slippers! Fuddles meant the world to
Vez and letting him go was hard - it was an admirable thing for her to do, knowing
that in the long run it would be better for him (although certain heartbreak for
her). It
was also quite evident that Fuddles adored his first "human mum" so
her slippers were brought on the trip so that Fuddles could have Vez's smell near
him. This is a common "technique" that helps keep critters as stress
free as possible while adapting to new surroundings. For
the first few nights we kept Fuddles inside so that he could get used to his new
home and the new smells. We blocked off our dining room so he would have a large
area to explore, his box and blankets went in one corner and his feed tray and
water went in another. We kept Fuddles awake during the day, playing with him
and keeping him amused so that at night he would sleep - and so we could sleep!
This worked well for a few nights until Fuddles decided that he wanted to be up
at night instead - normal activity time for a wombat.
We set up an area for him on our verandah and he stayed there for a few weeks,
quite happy in his new home. This was during the cooler months of the year so
we didn't have to worry about Fuddles becoming too hot - a hot wombat is a very
unhappy wombat and they prefer temperatures around 25 degrees Celsius which is
the average temperature of a wombat burrow. Prolonged heat of 30 degrees and above
can literally kill a wombat. It
wasn't long before Fuddles decided that he wanted to explore his new home and
the nights became alive with the sound of him trying to escape his pen.
We decided to move him into my flight aviary, originally built for exercising
Birds of Prey - and thankfully, wombat proof. Luckily it wasn't being used at
the time, so Fuddles was moved in - box, blankets, slippers and all. The aviary
made a suitable and safe home for him for another few weeks. Each
evening Todd and I would take Fuddles for a walk around our property, introducing
him bit by bit to his new home and the surrounding area. "Wombat walking"
is an essential step to the successful "soft release" of a wombat. It
allows them to be introduced to the area while being at "mums" heals
- just as a wild wombat would do with their mother. Our
wombat walks were an absolute delight for both Fuddles and us! We would often
take a little picnic hamper with us (full of wine and other delightful gourmet
human and animal tidbits - no wine for the wombat though, of course!) and sit
down allowing Fuddles to dig to his hearts content. His explorations were amazing
to watch, his interest in his surroundings grew day by day as did his confidence.
Each time he would wander just a little further away from us, constantly chattering
to us, and us talking to him in return, so that he would know mum and dad were
close by. His
play times were the best! In the early days he was a terror, biting ankles hard
and scratching flesh. During his time with us though he settled down quite a bit
and the bites during play time became quite soft. We have seen him break sticks
thicker than our fingers with his powerful jaws, and yet he could be so gentle
with us. It's gotta be love! Watching
Fuddles race off full speed in one direction then perform a lightening 180 degree
turn - stop - lie flat on his belly with his nose in the air and baring his teeth
before racing back to us was hilarious to watch. We were often in fits of giggles
and more wine ending up being spilt on the ground than ending up in our mouths
- blasted wombat! After
some time for Fuddles to settle in he was introduced to Keti and Alu with the
hope that the three would form a tight bond. The first time Fuddles sniffed Alu's
nose he literally pee'd himself and rushed into Todd's open arms, squealing all
the way - Alu and Keti ran in the opposite direction! Not a good start, but not
surprising as Fuddles had not encountered another wombat since being separated
from his mother. The
second attempt was a little better, but as it turned out the three didn't really
get on well and the girls and he only tolerated each other for our benefit. They
would eat their treats together (oatmeal is the best, thanks mum!) and go on "wombat
walks" together but ultimately one of them would get pee'd off with the other
and a skirmish would ensue. Nothing drastic ever happened, just a warning nip
here, a warning nip there! After
nearly a month of living in the enclosure Fuddles had decided it was time to be
free - again the night air was filled with sounds of Fuddles calling to us and
trying to rip the pen door down! The door was opened and Fuddles was allowed to
leave the enclosure with the opportunity of returning for safety. It didn't take
long however for Fuddles to move into the burrow that Tici, our first wombat,
had lived in a few years earlier. Tici
had excavating some way past the concrete pipe that we began the burrow with and
had made a sleeping chamber a few metres down. Fuddles
excavated even further and took the burrow around a corner where a new sleeping
chamber was made. Here he lived for several months - close to home for support
from mum and dad. Keti and Alu were moved into the wombat pen not long after Fuddles
vacated it. The timing was perfect! We
continued our "wombat walks" with Fuddles and allowed him to come inside
(in sectioned off areas) for "bonding" time. I believe it to be essential
to have regular contact with hand raised critters during the soft release period.
Some carers decide to to sever all contact with hand raised marsupials at certain
stages depending on the species, and that's fair enough - their are several ways
of release. I believe that allowing the animal to come and go as it pleases, and
for it to decide when it's going to leave home, is the best way. This form of
release, in my opinion, results in a much calmer and confident animal, and one
that survives! It's always worked for me. That's
not to say that the animals get treated like pets. They do not get access to the
whole house - in fact they only have access to the inside while we accompany them,
they certainly don't get to sleep in our bed - and they don't get shown off to
every visitor that pops in. They are treated like a native animal would be in
the wild but in an artificial environment - and in the wild they are at mum's
heal for some time.
As the animals get older the time in the house is reduced and then stopped altogether.
Gradually contact with Todd and I is also slowly reduced. As time goes on the
critter tends to wander further afield and spend more time either on their own
or with their own species. Touch wood, I've never had a problem of a stranger
being able to approach one of my raised and released animals when out in the paddocks,
and indeed they will run for cover even if we approach too near. As
Fuddles grew, our "wombat walks" became less frequent as he was often
off by himself exploring and grazing - and maybe looking for a girlfriend! After
walking in the neighbouring reserve we encountered lots of wombat scats and were
excited that Fuddles might find a friend. After
several months of living in his first burrow he out grew it and moved into a bigger
one that we started for him a few hundred metres down the paddock. We
thought that Fuddles had been living in the second burrow for some weeks before
we walked past it one day as we collected grass for Alu and Keti.
We were wrong! What
we found was the concrete pipe that we had started the burrow with, but it had
two entrances - one at each end, kind of like a straw. Looking inside we saw lots
of spider webs, so it was clear he hadn't lived in it for some time. Fuddles
visits home had become less frequent and for shorter periods. After seeing his
second burrow - somewhat demolished - I became rather worried. OK I admit it -
I am an anxious "parent" and I wanted to make sure he was OK, so the
following weekend we set off in the early hours of the morning to find him. Todd
got up at the crack of dawn (while I waited in the warm bed - poor Todd!) and
watched him as he ambled off toward his burrow to sleep the day away. We got the
general direction he took but we searched for an hour and a half with no success.
As our tummies were grumbling ferociously we began to make our way back home -
and "woohoo" we saw poo - wombat poo!!! The search was back on and half
an hour later we were at a cliff edge, about 700 metres from our home, wondering
where to go next.
Who knows why, but Todd decided to lie flat on the rock to look over the edge
- seconds later he was up and scrambling down the cliff line - he had seen wombat
diggings at the bottom! I
stayed at the top until Todd called out (as softly as he could so not to alert
the resident wombat) that he'd found a burrow and then I was scrambling down the
cliff line as quickly as I could without breaking my ankle. When
I got to the bottom Fuddles was at Todd heals looking bleary eyed and confused!
I'm sure he was thinking "huh, how did they find me?". We gave him a
few water cracker treats (one of his favourites) which he ate slowly as he woke
up - and then it was on for young and old. Seeing my ankles in front of him he
lunged - and with full force - talk about "ouch"! I scrambled away from
him as quickly as I could without falling down the hill but he persistently followed
me. I decided to vacate the premises quickly and climbed the cliff in lightening
speed! Todd
stayed with him for a little while longer (why my ankles were thought of as the
enemy and not Todd's, I don't know) and encouraged him back into his burrow which
he had made under the cliff line. He had made two entrances, one low on the cliff
line and one a bit higher. Todd saw though that the burrow didn't go in too deeply
and guessed that Fuddles wouldn't be in it for very much longer - it was more
of an intermediate or temporary shelter burrow. Fuddles
went back into his burrow, turned around and lay at the entrance watching Todd,
who left not long after. We were both happy to see that a wombat - who had begun
his life essentially being raised as a pet - was learning to live on his own.
We were proud foster parents indeed! That
evening Fuddles turned up on the verandah as happy as ever - he had forgiven us
(or me, as it would seem) for finding his secret place! We found him with his
nose buried in Todd's boot - aaarrrggghh, the sweet smell of Todd (not!). After
some roo pellet treats he was off again and didn't return for the rest of the
night. That
evening signaled a change in Fuddles behaviour. His visits home came sporadically,
and days would go before we saw him again. Whenever
he returned his coat was perfectly clean, not like Alu or Keti in comparison.
They were always covered in dirt and it billowed out in a dust cloud whenever
we patted them. As Fuddles was so clean we assumed he was still living in his
cliff line burrow. Then
one evening - not so long ago - Fuddles turned up while we were in the lounge
room watching TV. We walked into the living room and there he was, sitting just
inside the door (which some months before he had made his own special opening
in, ie: ripped it from one end to the other!) - it looked as though he was waiting
for us. Fuddles
visits were normally a laugh a second due to his mischievous antics, but this
evening he was quite calm and rather affectionate. We gave him some treats which
he ate with gusto, and he nuzzled into our hands as we tickled him under the chin.
He took my finger in his mouth and just sat there, for a few seconds, gently chewing
on it. He then had a bit of rough and tumble play with Todd followed by more nuzzling.
We enjoyed his affectionate behaviour but didn't think too much of it at the time.
We took him outside and gave him some more treats and returned indoors. A few
minutes later we checked on him - his food was all gone and so was he - for good.
We haven't seen him since. We've
been back down to the cliff burrow twice since then but it would appear he's moved
out and dug himself a better burrow elsewhere. We've seen fresh wombat scats on
our property (and on our verandah - the bugger) so we know that he's still around.
Me being the anxious mum, have demanded numerous searches of the area in case
he'd hurt himself. Thankfully there has been no sign of an injured - or dead -
wombat, just lots of poo!
Yeah, for Fuddles! We're
certain that his last evening with us was good-bye. A truly fond farewell. He's Back! After several months of not seeing Fuddles, he turned up on our verandah late the other night. He is huge! He looks very well - no signs of aggressive fighting, a gleaming coat and plenty of muscle! After a chat and a treat he again disapeared into the night. |