Life in prison wasn’t easy for a kangaroo. The ceiling of his cell wasn’t tall enough to hop in, so Bobby had to bounce idly on the tips of his heels. The only place he was free to hop was the prison yards, where he was routinely made a mockery of. The other inmates, intoxicated on humorous notions of a boxing kangaroo, forced Bobby to participate in organized fights. Outcries to the guards fell on deaf ears, as many of them had a stake in the gambling ring that had formed; the others were indifferent.

There was nowhere within the confines of the prison for Bobby to graze, and the meals were ill-suited for his herbivorous diet. He had become weak and frail due to his malnutrition and regular fights, and began to wonder if he’d ever live to see the day of his release.

The thought of his joeys was all that kept Bobby’s will alive. It had been years since he was taken from them, but he was confident that his children would be exactly where he had left them.

(Continue reading the story here.)