On Friday we went to a wildlife sanctuary just outside Hobart. The animals are mostly waifs and strays -- they've been brought in after being found injured or sick. They have two tawny frogmouths, both blind after chasing moths into the headlights of cars.
That said, most of the animals were in rude health and we had a great time in particular feeding the kangaroos and wallabies -- you're given a bag of papery pellets at the entrance and as soon as you enter their enclosure they come loping or bouncing over, even grabbing hold of you for balance with their disturbingly long claws as they nuzzle for a snack. Anya thought the whole experience -- kangaroos eating out of her hand! -- was hilarious.
The saddest inhabitant was the sole Tasmanian Devil. I still think of these critters, a la Bugs Bunny, as big bipedal furry brown things with tempers and teeth and a habit of getting around by turning into a sort of furious tornado. The real ones are like black-and-copper raccoons with a pitbull's smile and a funny waddling gait. They're also fighting off extinction due to facial cancers that have been spreading through the wild population for the past decade.
There was just one Devil at Bonorong and he was a pretty sorry specimen, with a balding tail caused I guess by whatever accident got him in there in the first place. Apologies to Max Romeo for the title, but these creatures have been pretty well chased off the earth already. I hope his relatives are still running wild by the time Anya's my age.
