My Australian tongue finds its French name unpronounceable. I may have to live here a dozen years before I succeed.
In the meantime, I take great pleasure in this little chap. I could watch him for hours, playfully scampering around the garden, foraging for walnuts.
He is a nervous little Herbert. He props, puts his head up to look around, then resumes his hopping run.
His tail is a russet colour just like his body, and as long. We have seen another with a darker tail, maybe his mate?
Our little furry friend audaciously climbs onto the verandah table where Cliona has a basket of walnuts. Using his front paws, he plucks one from the basket and nibbles at it, before scurrying away, only to come back for another a few minutes later.
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| I've named him Herbert |
Adorable. We almost hit one on the road the other day, but he was faster than he looked.
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