I’ve very excited to see that my poem ‘A very Funny Animal is poem of the day on the Australian Children’s Poetry website today! Yay!
Tag: Australian animals
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Beaver Slap #99WordStories

This week at the Carrot Ranch, Charli Mills challenged writers to In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story about a beaver slap. It can be an actual tail slap warning on the water or an imitation. Is a beaver slap the name of something — a new type of burger, perfume, or a sci-fi gadget? Take ecological and poetic licenses. Go where the prompt leads!
We don’t have beavers in Australia and I’d neither heard, nor heard of, a beaver slap before. However, we do have:
A Very Funny Animal
It isn’t quite a beaver, though it has a beaver’s tail,
A freshwater-living mammal, much smaller than a whale.
It’s something like an otter with body dressed in fur.
Its bill and feet are duck-like but it has a poisonous spur.
It burrows into riverbanks to lay its eggs therein.
It swims around in waters while having not one fin.
If you come across it, I urge you not to scream.
It wouldn’t ever harm you. It’s just a monotreme.
Its name can be quite tricky, but you’ll learn it without fuss.
So try:
Or –
Or – nith – or
Ornithorhynchus.
(Apologies to C.J. Dennis for this poem poorly modelled on his wonderful Triantiwontigongolope which you can read in full here.)
You might know this creature better as the platypus.
The poem, although it is 99 words, isn’t really my response to the prompt. It began more as an explanation of my response which follows.
When Europeans first arrived in Australia, they had never seen anything like the platypus, which is an egg-laying mammal, or monotreme. The first scientists who studied the platypus, thought it was a fake, made up of the body parts of several animals. I hope I’ve captured its uniqueness in both my poem and my story.
You may enjoy this video about the platypus. My story Impossible Creature follows it.
By the way, we have neither otters nor beavers in Australia.
Impossible Creature
The day was magic with the sunlight and laughter of summer holidays.
They were resting on the riverbank when a splash broke the spell. “What was that?”
“A fish? Must’ve been big.”
“It was a duck! I saw its beak before it dived.”
“That’s ridiculous. It’s an otter. Ducks don’t have fur.”
“Can’t be an otter. Their tails aren’t flat. Gotta be a beaver.”
“Duh! There’s no beavers in Australia.”
The surface broke again.
“Look! Webbed feet. It is a duck. I told you.”
“But not with that spur.”
“A furry duck with spurs. Someone’s playing tricks. But who?”

Thank you for reading. I appreciate your feedback. Please share your thoughts.

Note: The collection of stories made in response to the previous prompt Two Can Keep a Secret, including mine, can be read at the Carrot Ranch.
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Happy as a possum in a pouch
This week at the Carrot Ranch, Charli Mills is talking about getting cozy. While we swelter in the heat of our Australian summer, getting cosy is the last thing we are thinking of. Keeping cool is our current priority. (Note: cozy in North America, is cosy in Australia!)
When I think of cosy, I think of huddling in front of a fireplace, shawl over my knees, cat at my feet, and a glass of wine, perhaps Prosecco, in my hand. This is not something I have ever experienced. It is an image portrayed on Christmas cards, book covers, and in movies.
It’s a bit of a stretch for me to contemplate cosy at the moment, and I wondered how young Australians with little experience of “cosy” might respond to the word.
I asked 7-year-old grandson what he thought of when he heard the word “cosy”. He said,
“Nice and warm in bed.”
His Dad thought there could be no better definition. In fact this is the definition provided by Google:

I asked grandson if he thought we would want to be cosy in summer and he said, “Well maybe not warm, but snuggly.” I think he did pretty well in defining the word.
Snuggly makes me think of the children in bed as shown in Helen Magisson’s version of The Night Before Christmas. (Look for the interview with Helene on the readilearn blog later this month.)
No doubt you have heard the expression, “snug as a bug in a rug”. Like cosy, the expression refers to being in a pretty comfortable position. I figured that being in a pouch would be about as cosy as a creature could get and, since Australia is home to many marsupials, it seemed a perfect fit for the post.
Marsupials are mammals that give birth to live young before they are fully developed. The young, usually referred to as joeys, continue to develop in the mother’s pouch for a number of months, suckling on their mother’s milk.

As explained in Feeling a little prickly, Australia is home to almost 70% of the world’s marsupials. Other marsupials are found in the Americas, mostly South America. Kangaroos, wallabies, koalas, possums, wombats, Tasmanian devils, numbats, bilbies, and quolls are among the species of marsupials found in Australia.
Brushtail possums are common in Australia and frequently share our homes as well as our neighbourhoods.
At the moment, a mother and baby have taken up residence in Hub’s carport/workshop. We’re not particularly happy when they share our homes, but I love to hear and see them in the garden. Although I must admit that hearing a male brushtail possum for the first time can be a disturbing experience. I wrote about this in Sounds like …
While possums are not popular in New Zealand and efforts are being made to eradicate them, and other introduced pests, from the island nation; I think they are rather cute. When I was young I climbed everywhere and got into everything and, as a result, was nicknamed “Possum”. (What happened to that inquisitive child?)
I have previously written about some of my favourite picture books about possums, including Possum in the House and Possum Goes to School in Listen to the sounds, and Possum Magic by Mem Fox in A celebration of Australian picture books #2 – Mem Fox


When Charli Mills of the Carrot Ranch challenged writers to In 99 words (no more, no less) write a cozy story, how could I not write about a cute little possum joey getting cosy in the mother’s pouch. I hope you like it.

Watermelon by Peter Firminger https://www.flickr.com/photos/wollombi/251246865 Happy as a possum in a pouch
Warm and cosy in mother’s pouch, for months he did no more than suckle and sleep. Lulled by her gentle heartbeat and rhythmic breathing, he barely noticed as she scurried about at night; foraging for food, leaping from branch to branch, avoiding neighbourhood cats, sometimes scouring dogs’ bowls for leftovers, or accepting humans’ sweet titbits. For him, nothing else existed. Until … one night, a strange feeling stirred inside. He poked his whiskery nose outside. Sniff, sniff. The most delicious scent beckoned him out. Mother offered him something red. Zing! His senses ignited. Milk was forgotten, nightly foraging began.

Thank you for reading. I appreciate your feedback. Please share your thoughts.













