Have you ever been chased by an animal?


Nature. Isn’t it glorious in all of its unpredictability? Like how at 3pm, it always decides to piss down with rain when you are going out to pick up the kids? Or like how you always tread in a freshly laid dog shit, when you are barefoot… Or how a large bird decides to empty its bowels on your newly washed hair when you are waiting for a bus?

Is it any wonder that I am anxious?

Last week, I was observing a mother pushing a newbie in a pram, while her toddler taunted a nearby bush turkey with a cupcake.

“FINLEY!” She screamed, in her American accent, “Leave it alone!”

So Finley would follow his mother and the pram, before stopping and waiting for his mother not to look. When it was safe, he held out the cupcake and the turkey rushed him. He would then scream before his mum would be-rate him.


She looked at me and rolled her eyes. I laughed out loud, remembering a time more than a decade ago.

Horatio had just turned two, and Jack was a few weeks old. I decided to get out of the house and be brave with my new crew. Off to Taronga Zoo for us! Just us three. Into the car went the plan, the baby bag and my will to live. A second baby is much easier to handle than the first one. With the first one, I was too terrified to even have a shower unless I wheeled the basinet into the bathroom.

We walked around for a bit until everyone lost their shit. This happened when we reached the Farmyard Exhibit, where piglets, sheep and poultry were abundant. I sat on a bench to give Jack a feed. I was not a great breastfeeder, but I gave it a red-hot crack. As I fumbled with a gigantic boob and a screaming baby, I handed Horatio a muffin to munch on before I tried to relax.

Horatio wandered off, muffin in hand, while I fed the baby.

A few minutes later, my calm time was interrupted by the sound of a faint scream. The scream grew louder and louder. I looked up to see Horatio running as fast as his little legs would allow him, closely followed by three large ducks. Large, evil, hungry ducks who only had eyes for the muffin. As he raced past me, I watched those ducks close in on him.

“Not on my watch!” and I took off. Like Florence Griffith Joyner. If indeed Florence Griffith Joiner was a post-partum, large-titted, lactating womble. Screaming like a banshee, I slowly made ground on the situation, boob out for all the world to see. Baby clutched tightly to the other side of my chest, I reached Horatio, grabbed that muffin from his chubby little hand and flung it at the ducks. Catching my breath, I popped my boob back into my bra and walked back to the bench, very well aware that I had dozens of eyes me. I tried my best to calm hysterical Horatio, but to be honest I didn’t blame him, for it was an excellent muffin. Blueberry.

Have you ever been chased by an animal?