Watching as my girls, Hollie, then five, and Penelope, two, feed a bottle of formula to the wombat joey, my heart warmed. After rescuing the orphan from the side of the road in 2022, the girls’ named her Wanda.
It was the first time I’d seen Hollie so happy since the tragic passing of my son, Flynn, three years earlier.
The day we lost him started like any other.
Pulling on his brown cowboy boots, Flynn, then three, helped Hollie, two, put on her pink ones.
‘Hold my hand,’ he said, guiding her outside to our vegie garden.
It was October 2019, and my husband Jake, then 33, and I had recently moved to a 3000 acre cattle farm in Gippsland, Victoria.
As the big brother, Flynn was always looking…