Mentioning quolls reminded me of a couple of run ins I’ve had with these quirky nocturnal spotted native animals, one good, one not so good. Going back to my first winter in
Suffice to say we obviously made it back down the mountain 8 hours later courtesy of the first log truck going our way, but while up there in the dark we got out of the car simply to appreciate the spectacle of the falling snow and the quiet stillness that comes in its wake. Surprised to see little footprints coming from the other side of the road and going under the car, we found a small quoll about the size of a cat huddling under the warm engine, a reward I think for our predicament.
Run in No 2 was something else again. In the middle of housework I suddenly became aware of a dreadful smell, and seeing as I had the windows and doors open I thought maybe a bird had hit the window and died underneath it. Couldn’t find the source, smell seemed to be coming from the toilet area but it didn’t smell like anything I’d ever inhaled in such a place, even in a men’s public toilet, and having cleaned a few in my time they can be very nasty!
Had to be the back porch, and there, hiding in the corner behind the ladder was a very sick looking quoll. Not a cute looking one either, but a mangy version of the largest of the species, a Tiger Cat. Very unusual place to find one of these creatures to say the least; he must’ve crawled away to die somewhere and decided my back porch was as good a place as any. Wasn’t sure how he would respond to my attempts to coax him out, but he eventually roused himself and took off, probably to find a less disturbing final resting place.
I’ve smelt dead animals, but this was a shocker and he wasn't even deceased yet. Had to clear everything off the back porch, hose it down, splash disinfectant everywhere, hose it again, and repeat the process till finally it was habitable.
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