Robyn and I were walking down Boga street. On the right side corner there was a dead kangaroo that got hit by a car.
"I dont remember seeing that there before," Robyn said.
The kangaroo was a female, so I touched its pouch to see if it had a joey. The pouch had a lump in it the size of my hand, but it was cold to the touch and not moving.
"The joey is dead," I told Robyn. But then I felt the bottom of the cold bump and I could feel a warm lump the size of a walnut moving.
"There are two joeys and the second one is alive!" I said. "But it is to small to rescue, see?" a little pink, mole-like head poked out of the pouch.
We turned to walk away, when suddenly the kangaroo began to stand up. She was very wobbly on her feet and as she hopped away, I could tell her left back foot was broken because it was flopping around everywhere.
When the kangaroo jumped away, the dead joey fell out of its pouch. I picked it up. It had a little wound on its right side. I decided to put the dead joey in my pocket so I could put it in a jar of alcohol when I got home.
I then began to follow the kangaroo because I wanted to chase her towards the mallee where she would be safe. She hopped into the school ground where someone was mowing the oval