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My Life as Tasmanian Devil

Pups, imps, joeys, wiggling tailed marsupials, hunting in parties of five. Deadly facial cancer has killed lots of us, it’s a wonder I am still alive. I screech when I eat, carrion, my utmost favorite food, road kill. My aggression insured me at babyhood alive I would be still. There were fifty in my litter, but only four teats so we scrappers had to fight. Growling and viciously, snarling at each other, slapping away nice ones in the night. Our mother was grabbed by a caveman devil who dragged her off by the neck. I was incensed, and promptly chased after them, thinking “what the heck?” Some of my siblings were frightened out of the old hollow log, not many decided to stay. I was not one of them. I showed my teeth, and my aggressors promptly ran away. Wombats, wallabies, opossums and other animals on this island of mine. Steer clear of my hollow log, knowing I will snap them up and eat them in no time.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2019




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Date: 3/1/2019 1:07:00 AM
The Devil is in the detail, your little verse on the Tassie Devil say's it all. The devils have had a hard time over the last few years but there are still healthy pockets living a healthy life without the facial disease. From one Tasmanian to another, well done. Cheers, Kev
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Caren Krutsinger
Date: 3/1/2019 3:49:00 AM
Thank you so much,Kevin. I think they are the cutest miniature bear/raccoon combinations I have ever seen. I think it is strange that they are biting each other on the face in the first place, which seems to contribute to the disease problem.