Jottings from the Tropics: 18 September 2012

Listen up, wildlife. I know you're sick of hearing this, but if you want me to stop mentioning it, all you have to do is quit pooping on the patio.

Don't tell me you can't help yourselves. You don't poop in your own nests. Okay, the possums probably do, but they are poopal production lines. Their alimentary tracts are full all the time. Food going in one end just pushes out digested matter at the other. (And while we're on the subject of possums, what's with all the ticks? For animals that are nicely turned out, possums are loaded with arachnid ectoparasites. Little Poss sometimes looks as though he's covered in grey balloons. )

Pademelons: if you can't control yourselves, just go around the patio rather than across it. You never see tree roos pooping on the brickwork.

Brush turkeys: for goodness sake, eat more roughage. Really.

Melomys: Well, you're only small, so it's no real problem. But a modicum of restraint would be appreciated.

And bandicoots: I know you thought that no one was looking, but I did witness that effort the other night, when one of you chased off Little Poss and then proceeded to create a scale model of Mount Bartle Frere in recycled material. You've excavated pits all over the garden, why not use them?

Thank you for your attention.