As told by the human owner of Will’s backyard.

Over the recent long weekend, an intruder arrived in my backyard … actually, in Will’s backyard. 

Will is a young wombat known to roam regularly around Manuka St, often grazing in a backyard containing a juicy patch of grass near chooks sleeping in their shed, and an old burrow useful as bolt hole for rapid retreat if needed, and sleeping. Recently Will was noticed grazing during the day  for the first time, on close inspection a rapidly advancing case of mange was recognised by widespread thickened skin, loss of fur and scabs on its face. Untreated, mange infection overwhelms a wombat causing extreme suffering from unbearable itch, blindness and deafness, till death inevitably results.  Unusual thirst and a voracious appetite require the wombat to graze 12-14 hours per day in an effort to obtain adequate nutrition to survive the infection- Will became rapidly emaciated once winter cold set in.

Will’s intruder on the King’s Birthday weekend was a healthy adult wombat that had been temporarily displaced from its own backyard home when humans (who thought they owned the place) and their dogs, arrived at Sandy Point. For much of the year this solitary wombat freely roams its territory in the township grazing on native perennial grasses between 2 to 4 hours each night, retiring  at dawn to sleep in one of its numerous burrows so rarely observed by humans. During the long weekend on a moonless night, when many backyards were occupied, it explored unfamiliar wombat-worn paths looking for food outside its own territory, following the scent of other wombats and piles of cube-shaped scats left as strategic messages along regular routes. It had to go through and under unfamiliar fences inconveniently placed in a regular design separating the humans’ sleeping places oddly built above ground so vulnerable to bushfire and extremes of weather.

The arrival of this intruder had an impact on how Will’s mange was treated. His initial treatment had been applied on unaffected skin along his back, using the ‘pole and scoop’: This method allows a volunteer to creep up unnoticed then apply solution from a distance causing minimal stress.    Wombat mange is 100% curable if treatment starts early and continues till mange is eradicated. Most adult wombats are treated in the wild since captivity causes extreme stress in adult wombats; if they survive it is then difficult to safely return them to the wild since existing  wombat territories are fiercely defended.  Mange Management supplies treatment kits to volunteers, including 'burrow flaps' which are set up along wombat pathways, under fences and at burrow openings; when the flap is pushed open solution is dispensed along the back of the wombat traveling beneath, again minimising stress from ongoing treatment.  While the neighbouring wombat was intruding into Will’s patch,  Cydectin, used in dogs and cattle and known to be safe in wombats, was chosen for further treatment via burrow flaps to avoid possible toxicity. Landcare supplied field cameras for monitoring.

Will’s treatment is ongoing, the neighbouring displaced wombat returned to  its own territory when the humans went home, and we are alert for more wombats grazing for lengthy periods during the day since that can be a sign of mange infection.  When this article was written 2 more young wombats had been reported, one healthy and one with early mange, also treated. The total number of wombats living in Sandy Point,  and the number infected with mange is unknown, nor how many have succumbed to mange unnoticed.  The best we can do is attempt to relieve suffering of individual wombats by recognising unusual wombat behaviour and reporting any suspicion of mange to MangeManagement ( 0431 600 125 ) who arrange response by local volunteers and supplies treatment kits to landowners. 

Will is now free-ranging with the chooks that initially set up a loud alarm alerting me each time Will arrived during the day, helping to deliver the first treatments. They’re used to each other now so it’s a surprise whenever I glance out my kitchen window to unexpectedly see a scabby little wombat cruising around with the chooks. It’s still completely wild so it’s a privilege to be able to share a wombat's world while hopefully improving its chance of survival, albeit only because Will is so desperately unwell. Will has not yet become part of the chook's pecking order although these chooks do chase rabbits and sparrows pigeons blackbirds etc which enter their space stealing their food,  so I’m surprised how casual they’ve become since Will doesn’t behave anything like a chook.

By Wendy Hayes