The Rainforest Journal: Outing #16 – Day 4

(Wednesday 17-December-2014)

@~11:00pm

Making the world a better place one fly at a time.

Making the world a better place one fly at a time.

Today was spent reading for the most part – since there was no water needed getting, pausing occasionally to stun the odd filthy fly that was stupid enough to venture into the tent. Rather than feed them to the Ants, though, I now prefer to stick em in the fly-paper I have hanging in the tent; I’ve got flies that’re still writhing around now that were stuck there two days ago. I assume they stay alive until they starve, so it’s a much slower death than simply being ripped-apart by ants. Also, if I stick em right next to each other on the fly-paper one flies kicking and twitching causes all the adjoining flies to freak out; causing a little chain-reaction of panic that goes on all day long.

Yeah I love watching the stupid little fuckheads kicking their stupid little legs together in unison, knowing there’s nothing they can do to break free of the sticky. Man I hate flies.

Anyway, once the Possums emerged from their burrows for the night we had our nightly hand-feeding session.

Bitta grabby hand-feeding..

Bitta grabby hand-feeding..

Not only did I get some pats in tonight though, the youngster grabbed my fingers serval times and on one occasion – as I reached out to pat him again – he grabbed my hand with both paws, paused to sniff it a few seconds then gave me a single lick. Not a big, wet, slobbering dog lick mind you, but it’s the thought that counts. Anyone who’s had a pet rat lick them: it was like that.

It has to be said too, that he grabs very gently, considering the strength they’d have in their forearms; being arboreal tree-climbers, and when I hold onto the food he’s more inclined to wrap his little fingers around mine. I’m really more inclined to call them fingers than paws or claws – by the way – because not only do they have the same five digits we have, they also have the same number of joints on each finger: little furry knuckles, finger-tips and all.

The Meer-cat, "something scary over there" stance.

The Meer-cat, “something scary over there” stance.

And then I watch him as he does his upright Meer Cat stance – listening for scary things – and see a Bush Rat run right on past just a few feet from the both of us. Possum goes back to eating – not at all bothered by the Rats presence – so we can assume that Bush Rats are not on a Possums “List of Scary things”. So far it seems to be only others of his own species he gets twitchy about, though last nights little stand-off saw him chase of another Possum – twice his size – out of the area, several times. There was hissing, scampering and grunting but nothing that sounded like actual fighting.

The Rainforest Journal: Outing #16 – Day 4
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Jason
Animal-loving cleaner with a parrot.

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