Hello, Internet! Today’s post is coming to you from the beautiful state of Colorado. I’m Megan, and I’ve been fortunate to know Liz since we were in high school. Since she is such a dear friend of mine, I agreed to provide you all with a great story while she is recuperating from oral surgery and having a crazy-busy life.
Now Liz and I have had some great times together, which meant it was going to be difficult for me to pick the best story to tell on the blog. And while this story doesn’t necessarily feature Liz,it is certainly a story that neither one of us will ever forget.
It was summer and I decided to host a little party for a bunch of my friends. If you know Liz or me, you know that our definition of party is to hang out at the house, eat some food, probably play some games, possibly watch “childish” movies, and basically just enjoy hanging out and not having to do homework. This time a few of my friends kicked things up a notch by walking to the nearby grocery store and purchasing some bubbles. No, that’s not code for anything. It was a beautiful day, and they wanted to blow some bubbles outside.
When I decided to join them outside, they mentioned that they were hearing some strange noises coming from the garden in my back yard. Even though I lived in suburbia, we did get a variety of animals wandering through the yard on occasion, so I was not terribly concerned. We headed towards the garden to see if we could figure out what was making the noise. Not finding anything in the garden, we instead turned our attention to my neighbor’s yard.
A few things to set the scene: my back yard backed up against their back yard, with a chain-link fence separating the two yards. Also, these particular neighbors had a love of plant-life. When I say love, I mean that their backyard was so dense with trees and bushes it was basically a jungle. So the task of looking for small animals in their yard was not an easy one. I was about to give up when we started hearing more rustling noises.
And then I saw a head.
It looked almost like a baby deer. It was too tall to be anything else. And we definitely had deer in the area.
And then it jumped.
“HOLY CRAP IT’S A KANGAROO!!”
That’s right, internet. As it hopped closer there was no denying this was a kangaroo. In my neighbor’s back yard. In suburban Illinois.
While my friends got closer to the fence, I ran back to the house to alert the rest of the party-goers that there was a kangaroo in the yard (effectively). Imagine one of those scenes in a cartoon where everyone rushes out of a building as a single mass and almost tramples the main character. That’s about what happened after the initial shock of “KANGAROO IN THE BACK YARD!” Thankfully I avoided being trampled and instead ran upstairs to inform my parents that our neighbors were harboring an exotic animal.
By the time I made it back outside, the kangaroo was nowhere to be seen, and my friends were all heading back towards the house. Apparently my neighbor had heard the commotion and come outside, informed everyone that the animal was, in fact, a wallaby, and then carried the poor creature inside away from all the ogling teenagers.
And yes, apparently it is legal to own a wallaby in the US. We checked. Sadly, I never saw the wallaby again. I hope it lived a long and happy life in suburbia.