A gentleman was on his way home to Denmark when he stopped to check a dead kangaroo on the side of the road and discovered a joey in her pouch. As he was leaving for eight weeks to the Middle East, he took this little boy to the vet and asked if they could find a temporary home for him. He promised to be the joey's carer when he returned. I got the call and, even though I already had Charlie, Coco, and Caree in care, I thought I could manage for eight weeks. Enter into my life and heart: Cruz.

Cruz was a real teddy bear and a bed hopper, loving nothing more than to cuddle up in bed with one of his new buddies. He adored his Mummy cuddles and fit into our lives perfectly.

After eight weeks, the phone call came, and his rescuer was happy to take Cruz back. After explaining that Cruz was really happy in his new mob, and I would feel blessed to continue being his Mummy, the gentleman graciously agreed to leave Cruz with me. Bless his heart for keeping his promise.

The four of them grew up together, and I loved being their Mummy. They all bonded well, but Charlie and Cruz had a particularly special bond.

As they grew older, they started spending time in "The Pen" until they were old enough to be there full time, with two daily visits from Mum. The plan was to release them onto a 300-acre property with seven other joeys from various carers, but plans changed when we were told to vacate the property. Thankfully, by that time, I was moving to a beautiful property in Tenterden, where I could take all eight of my joeys for a soft release.

A very special bond between Cruz and Charlie

On November 23, Cruz wasn't home for breakfast. An hour later, I saw him waiting at the gate. I didn't notice anything wrong with him initially; he ate and drank, then took off with the rest of the mob for the day. The next day, I saw something terribly wrong with his arm. To my shock, he had ripped his arm from wrist to elbow, with both bones completely exposed. We believe it happened on a barbed wire fence.

I called Dr. Paul from Great Southern Veterinary Services, who came right away. He assessed the injury and informed me that it was at least 36 hours old and too late to stitch. He carried Cruz into a makeshift pen, sedated him, and worked on the injury for the next two hours, cleaning it thoroughly. My daughter Joslyn assisted the vet. Cruz was bandaged up, and we stayed with him until the sedative wore off to ensure he didn't bolt. Dr. Paul told me we had a 30% chance of saving Cruz's arm from amputation, but the risk of stress myopathy was extremely high. He had also torn the tendons to his fingers, leaving movement in only two. I knew then I had to do whatever it took to save my boy and his arm.

Charlie stayed with Cruz 24/7 for the first four weeks. Every afternoon at 5 pm, he would wait at the gate and join Cruz in the pen for the night. In the mornings, he spent some time with the others for breakfast and then spent the rest of the day on the other side of the fence, right next to Cruz. I believe Charlie's devotion helped Cruz avoid myopathy. A couple of times a week, the rest of the mob joined him for treats. A huge thank you to North Road Supa IGA for providing a weekly box of treats for the joeys, ensuring Cruz never lost contact with his mob. This was vital for his mental and emotional well-being.

Weekly treat night with Charlie, Coco and Caree

My job was to take care of the medical needs and smother him with Mummy love. Bandage changes were done daily at first, gradually increasing the time between changes. Keeping the wound clean was crucial, but difficult with an adult roo who loved black dirt. The hot weather and flies made it even more challenging.

After two weeks, it became clear that Cruz using his arm was hindering the healing process, so I made a splint for his arm to use as a crutch and take the pressure off the wound.

Dr. Paul was absolutely amazing, providing encouragement and patience, spending whatever time I needed to ensure everything was done correctly. After four weeks, I began finding Cruz's splint in the pen during my morning visits. He was feeling better and started sparring with Charlie, so I had to remove Charlie from the pen. Rosie took his place, and although she was not as willing, the two developed a special bond.

One morning, I found Cruz missing from the pen. He had jumped the fence to join the mob for breakfast. I panicked, wondering how I would get him back. He wasn't going back voluntarily, so I grabbed his large pouch, and he rolled in. I carried him, all 40kg, back to the pen, praying the whole way for the strength to get him there. It happened several times

One afternoon as I went to check on him, I discovered that Cruz had escaped from the pen again. As I saw the empty space where he should have been, I felt a wave of panic wash over me. My heart raced, and I began to sob uncontrollably. The exhaustion of weeks of relentless care, the fear of his injury worsening, and the overwhelming doubt about whether I was doing the right thing all crashed down on me.

I was beyond exhausted—physically and emotionally. The thought of not being able to get him back safely filled me with dread. Was I failing him? Was all my effort in vain? The uncertainty was unbearable. I felt utterly helpless and alone, my heart aching with worry for my precious boy.

Through the tears and the anguish, I summoned the strength to find him, praying for guidance and support. Somehow, I managed to get him back into the pen, but the emotional toll was immense. It was one of the darkest moments of this journey, but I knew I had to keep fighting for Cruz, no matter how broken I felt.

On January 10, I no longer had the strength to carry him back, so his splint was removed, and a light bandage was put on his arm.

He was so happy to be back with his buddies. I believe at that point, his emotional health was more important than his physical. He was unhappy and cried a lot, watching his mob running free. I spent hours in the pen with him, but I was no substitute for his buddies. Noise was another issue, as the roos' instinct is to flee when scared. Cruz couldn't, so he would get extremely stressed, pacing and running up and down the fence line. It sometimes took over an hour to calm him. He could never be left alone, as I needed to monitor him at all times.

This journey was incredibly lonely. I had no established relationships with a local vet or a mentor to guide me. I was second-guessing myself constantly, dealing with a horrific injury without the proper facilities or the knowledge of what I was doing. The isolation and pressure were immense, but I knew I had to keep going for Cruz.

The morning after Cruz's self-release from the pen, I found him and Charlie sparring, ever so gently. The excitement in their eyes as they faced each other, doing what boys love to do, brought tears to my eyes. This moment made the whole journey worth it—every sleepless night, every ounce of pain, every heartache, every doubt and lack of self-confidence.

A happy smile with no bandage on his arm

Cruz's arm has continued to heal, and today, he had his first few hours without a bandage in 11 weeks. The bandaging protects the scar tissue, as he loves sparring with Charlie, and one wrong clip with a nail could undo all the hard work. I've had some fun with funky bandaging. Cruz has full use of all his fingers and thumb, and his arm as well. He will certainly have a nice big scar, hopefully reminding him not to jump fences anymore.

A huge thank you to Dr. Paul and Peggy for their encouragement and support, pushing me when I didn't think I could do it. Extra thanks to Peggy for helping with bandage changes, running around for supplies, and babysitting this precious boy so I could take a break. Big hugs to Charlie for being the best buddy Cruz could have had. Thank you, Rosie, for giving up your nights to keep Cruz company.

Above all, thanks and praise to Cruz's healer and protector, our gracious God, for giving me the strength to carry on.

Nursing Cruz required putting many things on hold, but it was worth it. He was the best patient—so gentle, patient, and loving. We now share a special bond. I am moved to tears as he follows me, taking care of the little ones when they wander too far. Cruz returned to the wild a few months after his bandage came off.

Cruz's biggest smile came today as his arm was unbandaged for a few hours.

I caught a glimpse of him in March 2023. Seeing Cruz happy, wild, and free after almost three years filled my heart with an overwhelming sense of joy and happiness. The journey had been long and arduous, filled with countless challenges, sleepless nights, and many, many moments of doubt. Yet, seeing Cruz thriving in his natural habitat made every sacrifice worthwhile. The sight of him running with the wild boys, his arm healed, and his spirit unbroken, was a testament to his resilience and strength.

The emotions were a mix of happiness, relief, and a touch of bittersweet longing. Knowing that Cruz no longer needed his human Mummy was both a triumph and a poignant reminder of our bond. Tears of joy streamed down my face as I realised that all the hard work, love, and dedication had paid off. Cruz was now where he belonged, living the life he was meant to live—wild and free.

Seeing that familiar scar on his arm under the sunlight was like a badge of honor, symbolising his incredible journey and the bond we had once shared. It was a moment of pure elation and fulfillment, knowing that Cruz had overcome so much and was now living his best life. This experience has left an indelible mark on my heart, and I will forever cherish the memories of our time together.

I LOVE you Cruz my boy.

Meet Cruz

Meet Charlie

Meet Eddi