An Island Off an Island

Dear Friends, Ruby here, and for once I am speechless. My domain is being overrun with wildlife, and I am beside myself trying to keep everything under control.

Let’s go back a bit. When we arrived I had a ‘not in Orange anymore’ moment. The smells, the terrain, the sounds – all different. But I am an intelligent and adaptable animal and have embraced the lifestyle, even adding dead and rubbery starfish and wallaby poo to my diet.

But when strange and belligerent creatures take up residence in my personal space then something has to be done! To be specific off our laundry is an enclosed porch/wet room/conservatory ( that’s Mum’s description but we all know she’s ridiculous) and this is Ruby’s space. It’s where my water bowl is, and where I eat my meals. My futon is also there, though I eschew it in favour of the lounge.

Annoyingly in the past couple of weeks the space under my room has been invaded by Quolls, or to be more exact the eastern quoll or native cat. They are tiny, aggressive little creatures which have an inflated sense of self importance because they are endangered. I bark, they hiss; I growl, they go ballistic. I am fast asleep at night and they pad around forcing me ( and the whole household) into wakefulness. I think they could move on.

One of Mum and Dad’s new Bruny friends, Kate, and a lady called Lois have written a book Quentin the Quoll on Bruny Island. Maybe my quolls could go on an ‘off island’ book tour.

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So I have been adapting to the quolls when today another interloper takes up residence under my room, an echidna or spiny ant eater. Mum and Dad were beyond excited, I went into overdrive, patrolling, poking, snorting. Damn thing curled up into a ball and went to sleep.

Finally, to my relief Mum decided to take me down to the beach for a walk. Time to meditate on the meaning of life, look at the sea, sniff and chill. We took the steep narrow path home and damn me if we didn’t have to step to one side while something large and grey bounded past. I believe it’s called a wallaby. I was beyond caring. I sat respectfully and then resumed my walk home to dinner and a rest.

Life on the Island! Rube.

PS. Ruby’s Mum here. Much as she would like you to think otherwise the quolls and echidna are in no danger. Their entrance to the area below Ruby’s room is from the front of the house, well away from her fenced garden.