Meet the farm’s apex predator, Mimi.
The face might not inspire shock and awe but I’m staking a hell of a lot on her fearsome faeces.
Earlier this week, I was dismayed to discover a wascally wombat is making a tunnel through the dam wall.
This is no ordinary dam. It’s a full-to-the-brim, 6-metre-high wall of water. The equivalent of 16 Olympic swimming pools, this is pretty much the only water you’ll find falling on the farm from New Year until Autumn. It’s the makings of the cows’ summer supper.
So, with no time to spare, we need to convince Wally Wombat that this is a very poor location for his new holiday home.
I rang wombat rescue groups but none would take him away seeing as he’s not injured but all said the same thing: wombats are fussy. They don’t like wet burrows, stinky burrows or ones that might be visited by meat eaters.
So, armed with some fresh evidence of meat eating kindly donated by Mimi the monster, we bucketed in a predator’s calling card or two, followed by a few sloshings of muddy water for good measure.
Fingers crossed, Wally moves out of town before we need to call in the Sheriff.