The Unlikely Cure of Old Wallace


Peter Pickering

5/2/20242 min read

The Unlikely Cure of Old Wallace

There was movement at the station, for the word had passed around,

That old Wallace in the quarters, was severely, deeply bound.

Constipation had him gripped; he was desperate, he would pay

A thousand pounds in cash, for any cure that came his way.

Jillaroos and stockmen, even shearers lent a hand,

Each with their own bush remedy, the best in all the land.

Herbs and brews and age-old tricks, they tried without avail,

Poor Wallace stayed as clogged as ever, pallid, weak, and frail.

He shuffled 'round the sprawling land, where townsfolk never tread,

The bushland vast, this world his home, his face a shade of dread.

The remedies from all the crew had failed to do the trick,

His mind fogged over, meals untouched, the clock’s tick slow and thick.

Then by chance, a vet appeared, to check on cattle near,

Observing Wallace’s parlous state, he approached to volunteer.

With wisdom gleaned from fields afar, and beasts of every kind,

He offered up a daring plan that came into his mind.

An equine enema, strong and potent, was the vet's audacious pitch,

"Let’s clear this blockage swiftly now, without a single hitch."

Desperate, Wallace nodded, for what else could he do?

He’d take the vet's concoction as the internal pressure grew.

To the stable they both headed, where privacy might be contained,

But the horses glanced with knowing eyes, their looks could not be feigned.

In the dimly lit enclosure, preparations were made with care,

Wallace’s eyes met with the vet’s, no words needed to share.

Wallace bent over a bale of hay, his trousers hung on a nail,

With caution and a steady hand, the vet he would not fail.

The dose was pumped with gusto, reaching every colonic fold,

And battle waged within Wallace’s gut, as the daring cure took hold.

Echoes of a thunderous sort soon filled the quiet air,

Wallace dashed with all his might, to the dunny bare.

Sounds of strife and victory resounded from field to field,

As nature’s call was answered and his fate was finally sealed.

Exhausted, pale, yet free at last, he emerged into the light,

His ordeal was finally over, his future now looked bright.

A thousand pounds to the vet, he gladly handed there,

"Tenfold I would have paid," he cried, "for relief from this despair."

Ease swept through the station, tales were told of that fierce day,

How old Wallace’s battle was won in such an unorthodox way.

A cheer spread 'cross the pastures wide, the man was no more bound,

Freedom came in an unlikely cure, and peace once more was found.

© Peter Pickering 2024.