Wild Island

Meet Auzzie, the little Brushtail Possum joey.

Auzzie came into our care after a distressing brushtail possum rescue in Tasmania, one of the most confronting callouts we’ve had in months.

As we approached the property where Auzzie had been found, we noticed several adult Brushtail Possums lying along the side of the road. On closer inspection, we saw that each one had been shot in the head. We counted six lifeless possums within just 20 metres of each other. One of them was Auzzie’s mum.

We often say that for every animal we rescue, there’s a story, and sometimes those stories are hard to tell. But we believe they need to be told.

This is the story of little Auzzie, the Brushtail Possum joey…

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There is a kind of silence that surrounds a moment like this. The road was quiet, but not in a peaceful way. It was the kind of silence that feels wrong. Heavy. Still.

As we slowed to approach the property, we noticed the first Brushtail Possum lying at the edge of the road. Then another. Then another. All of them with the same fatal injury. Each one had been deliberately shot in the head.

We counted six in total, all within 20 metres of each other. Some had clearly been there overnight. Others looked more recent. And then we saw her, Auzzie’s mum.

As wildlife carers, we are no strangers to loss. But the methodical nature of this scene, the senselessness of it, left us feeling angry. Possums are sometimes hit by cars. That is devastating enough. But this was something else entirely. This was a deliberate act of cruelty.

As we gently examined Auzzie’s mum, we noticed movement in her pouch. A tiny, warm body, still breathing.

Joeys can survive for several hours, sometimes longer, in their mother’s pouch after death. They are kept warm by her body heat and protected by instinct to stay hidden. But without urgent care, they quickly deteriorate.

We carefully removed him, a tiny ball of fluff no larger than a hand. His eyes were wide, his limbs weak. He was dehydrated and cold, but alive.

Wrapped in a pouch, held close to our chest for warmth, Auzzie began to respond. That first small movement. The first feed. The flutter of his eyelids. It was enough to give us hope.

Brushtail Possums are one of Australia’s most widespread and easily recognised marsupials. They are adaptable, resourceful, and intelligent. They live in tree hollows, forage at night, and play a vital role in native ecosystems — spreading seeds, grazing on excess foliage, and maintaining the balance of their habitats.

But somewhere along the way, possums became misunderstood.

For some, Brushtail Possums are simply seen as a nuisance. They make noise on rooftops. They eat fruit trees and nibble on roses. They sometimes find their way into sheds or ceilings. And because of that, many people feel justified in hating them, or worse, harming them.

Learn More → How to Coexist with Brushtail Possums

In Tasmania, this has created a deeply troubling situation. While Brushtail Possums are native and protected, it is not uncommon to hear stories of them being poisoned, shot, or trapped. Some people believe it is legal to kill possums on their property. Others do not care whether it is or not.

What Auzzie’s mother and the other possums faced was not an isolated incident. It is part of a larger pattern, one rooted in misunderstanding, misinformation, and apathy toward our native animals.

In Tasmania, landowners can apply for permits to manage wildlife in very specific circumstances, often related to primary production. But without such a permit, it is illegal to harm, trap, or kill native wildlife, including possums.

Shooting animals without a permit, and especially in such a brutal, indiscriminate way, is not only unlawful, it is inhumane.

What many people fail to realise is that wildlife are not just part of the landscape. They are individuals. They feel fear and pain. They form bonds, care for their young, and play roles in a complex and delicate environment.

And when someone kills a mother possum, they are not just ending one life. They are potentially condemning her joey to a slow and agonising death. Unless someone like us happens to find them in time.

Auzzie is now safe in our care, tucked into a soft pouch, kept warm and fed every few hours with specialised formula. He is still very young and fragile, but he is responding well. His tiny ears twitch when we speak. His eyes follow movement. He is beginning to relax, to trust.

Caring for a joey like Auzzie is a long commitment. He will stay with us for many months as he grows big and strong, and learns the skills he will need to eventually return to the wild. That is always our goal: to give them back their freedom when they are ready.

But in the meantime, he is part of our family. And every feed, every cuddle, every small gain feels like a step forward, not just for him, but for all the others we could not save that day.

It is time we change the way we talk about possums.

These are not pests. They are not vermin. They are not an inconvenience to be removed or destroyed. They are part of our story as Australians. Animals who have lived on this land far longer than any of us.

Brushtail Possums have adapted to survive, even in urban environments. But instead of admiring that resilience, we often punish them for it. Instead of finding ways to coexist, we push them out.

There are humane solutions to possum conflicts. Possum-proofing your roof. Planting species that deter grazing. Using motion-activated lights or scent deterrents. Speaking to wildlife experts for guidance. There is no excuse for cruelty.

If you care about wildlife like Auzzie, there are many ways to help:

• Drive slowly at dawn and dusk. Wildlife are most active from dusk until dawn, and slowing down can save a life.
• Do not poison, trap, or harm wildlife. If you are having trouble with a possum, seek advice from a wildlife professional.
• Report cruelty or illegal activity. If you witness someone harming wildlife, report it to the relevant authorities.
• Call for help. If you see an injured or orphaned animal in Tasmania, call Bonorong Wildlife Rescue any time on 0447 264 625.
• Support wildlife carers. Donations, supplies, or even just sharing stories like Auzzie’s can make a real difference.

We often say that for every animal we rescue, there is a story. And sometimes those stories are hard to tell. But we believe they need to be told.

Today, Auzzie is alive because someone cared enough to stop. Because we were called. Because he was not forgotten. That is something.

Let us remember that every possum has a name, even if we do not know it. Every animal matters. And every life, no matter how small, is worth saving.

If you’d like to support our work, please get in touch or follow our journey. Together, we can help ensure that stories like Auzzie’s become the exception.