At first the creature was a myth, a ghost of urban lore, like spirits haunting Gypsy’s Graveyard or the Avon Bridge.
But sightings poured in from around the town. This myth, like the tale of Houdini, the I-65 Goat, would prove to be true. Trappers came home empty-handed. The DNR nodded politely. Well-meaning Lowellians tried to attract it with food and promises of safety, but the wallaby eluded them.
Those in Lowell realized no flower bed or home garden would be safe, even those secured behind short cedar posts and careful landscaping. The wallaby’s boundless appetite for vegetables and foliage terrified gardeners across the town.
Citizens of Lowell, Indiana, expressed certainty the creature would die once the freeze of winter set in, not knowing that wallabies, if allowed enough time to acclimate to colder temperatures, can build a protective layer of fur and fat to weather any freeze. It escaped in June, plenty of time to muster its defenses.
Winter came and it survived.
It was spotted long after winter passed. Spotted again. And again. And again. Even as recently as May 17th.
A beast with a kick powerful enough to smush the muzzle of any curious house pet, the wallaby towers over most rodents, and can outrun even the fastest house cat. It can bound along for hours at 15 mph, but when needed, its wide feet and burly thighs can push the beast up to 30 mph. No garden tractor stands a chance.
The great mammal has not left Lowell, but still stalks—or adorably hops—paths on the outskirts of the town, waiting, watching, munching and doubtlessly having the time of its life.