Since I was an animal author, and do want better stories lived and told, I’m going to ignore all those nasty tales, of Andders Breivik, of war, horror, Abrams, even of youngsters falling foul of a Polar Bear, and blog all the happy animal tales instead.

So to Budapest zoo and Frodo the wallaby. The poor thing fell out of his mother’s pouch, but the keepers have picked him up, are hand rearing him and nursing him back to health. Frodo, the ring bearer, of course, in that great classic about not holding anything but friendship as too precious, ducking the evil, single eyed will of Sauron, and returning magic rings to the cracks of doom.

There is much God stuff in fantasy writing, from CS Lewis to Tolkien, who of course were in that Oxford group called The Inklings. Not certainties, not even the obvious Christ figure of Aslan, but Inklings perhaps of something truly extraordinary inside the human psyche. Certainly theirs. I hope they are reading Frodo the Wallaby some great stories. DCD

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