June 18, 2024

No happy ending for this joey

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This story doesn’t end well

 

I was only thinking recently that it's been a couple of weeks since I had to remove a roadkilled animal from the road on the morning walk with Badger the beagle. That changed one day last week when there was a still-alive pademelon mum in the middle of the road, with joey in the pouch.

 

To my great distress there was nothing I could do for mum except ease her to the side of the road and hope to goodness I wasn’t causing her even more pain. But I removed joey from the pouch, wrapped him or her in the woolly scarf I was wearing and walked home cuddling joey close to my heart with one hand, while holding onto Badger and poo bag in the other. It was a juggling act, and needless to say I was about as far from home as I could be on this particular walk.

 

Also needless to say I cried all the way home at the tragedy of it. Yes, insignificant in the horrendous tragedies being played out across the world right now, but the callous loss of life that was so reckless and, perhaps, avoidable, is always tragic. I crossed my fingers crossed the little joey was strong enough to survive. I phoned Bongorong Wildlife Rescue – Tasmania’s centralised contact for all injured wildlife – who were onto it immediately of course.

 

No happy ending

 

Bonorong phoned back while I was having breakfast and asked could I take joey in to the Animal Vet Hospital in the city. I managed to do so before an appointment I had that morning. Joey’s weight had to be confirmed and the photo I’d sent through of joey on my kitchen scales didn’t cut it. The Vet Hospital said he/she was just under the necessary 200g that is the benchmark. Who knew? I suspect it's because there are too few carers for these 'pinkies'. So called as despite having eyes open, ears up, and wriggling vigorously, very few of the joeys that are this young survive. With limited resources they are sacrificed. Sad isn't it. If only that car had been going a little slower. If only . . . .

Another Good Samaritan from our area - also a wildlife carer - spotted pademelon mum and took her into the vet so she could be euthanased. I only learned of this much later. So two wildlife deaths that were quite possibly totally avoidable if that driver had taken heed of the road signs urging people to slow down between dusk and dawn. And decided to leave for work a couple of minutes earlier on darker winter mornings.

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By Anne Layton-Bennett July 22, 2026
Attracting the interest of a publisher for this story of a community’s campaign to stop what would have been ‘the world’s fourth largest pulp mill’ being built was never going to be easy, but hoping the first of two 3-minute Literary Speed Dating pitch sessions will prompt at least one of the two publishers to request the full MSS. And preferably both of them. These twice-yearly Perfect Pitch sessions are offered to members of the Australian Society of Authors, and this is the first time I’ve taken advantage of them – mainly because of the need to have a completed MSS before doing so. Three minutes isn’t long to excite the interest of a publisher who is after stories in very specific genres, and who therefore needs to believe your MSS is worth investing the time needed to read it in full. I’m pretty certain I’ve excited the necessary interest, but given Jane will hear the pitches of many more optimistic and talented writers after my morning session today, there are no guarantees. That initial interest might well wane as the day goes on if other writers have written stories that sound far more intriguing – and marketable. One can never forget that aspect of publishing these days: will the book sell. I believe my story will – certainly in Tasmania it definitely will – but a wider Australian readership? That’s an unknown even if my mentor is convinced of the story’s universal appeal.  I’d certainly like to think I’ve caught the zeitgeist wave given the current widespread community unrest over AI data centres, that’s already prompting similar serious opposition, and for many of the same reasons the Tamar Valley’s community opposed the pulp mill. Environmental degradation, threats to public health, water usage – and water shortages in an era of escalating climate extremes – and the constant, relentless noise factor that’s associated with data centres, and AI data centres in particular. I’m crossing my fingers that the second pitch session will be equally positive, and that I could strike it lucky with both publishers requesting to see the full MSS. But I won’t get ahead of myself. I’ll just be keeping all fingers and toes firmly crossed for the next seven days.
Magni
By Anne Layton-Bennett June 14, 2026
It’s taken far too many months for this marvellous model to grace the dedicated desk space in my office. When Fiona comes to visit next she will be very surprised, and hopefully gratified, that her amazing creative talent is finally on display. We’ve known each other for a very long time, and during the insanely busy time when I was helping to run the flower farm, working part-time in a school library, doing a spot of journalism on the side, and fighting the proposed pulp mill that is the subject of the manuscript I’m hoping to get published, Fiona cleaned my house each week. There’s only so much a person can do after all, and it has to be said cleaning our house during those manic years was fairly low down on the list of my priorities. But Fiona is a woman of many talents and she certainly possesses one that I so don’t have: sewing and dressmaking. So over the years she’s also made a few garments based on the pattern of a favourite garment that I was particularly fond of, and she’s also done some clothing alterations for both of us. My skills with needles and thread are limited to sewing on buttons, and taking up hems on John’s too-long pairs of jeans. Anything else is beyond me. But this fabulous model is the pièce de résistance – along with the beautiful crocheted knee warmer she gave me last year. This was when winter was approaching and so determined was I to finish writing the book, I decided to get out of bed at the insane hour of 5am and get in a solid hour’s writing in before dog walking and the demands of the day took over. Fiona was also one of many Tasmanians who needed to be circumspect about her opinion of the pulp mill. It was a project that polarised people, including families and friendships. She was one of several who passed on snippets of useful information, but on the basis of anonymity so it couldn’t be sheeted home to her.  Needless to say Fiona will be one of those whose contribution will be acknowledged – when this book is finally accepted by a publisher.
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