On Christmas Day, we received a call from a mate who had found a brushtail possum in a bad way. They live only five minutes from us, so we headed straight over to assess her.
We were told she was missing fur from her tail and had blood on her claws and mouth. On arrival, it quickly became clear that her condition was far more critical than we had hoped. From the description of where she had been found and the nature of her injuries, it appeared she had likely been struck by a car and left on the road.
She showed signs of severe trauma. There were possible skull fractures, broken teeth, and injuries consistent with a high-impact collision. These were not wounds that could be stabilised or rehabilitated. They were extensive, catastrophic, and beyond recovery.
This is one of the hardest moments in wildlife rescue, when assessment narrows hope rather than opening it. When experience tells you that survival would not mean relief, only prolonged suffering.
As we examined her more closely, we discovered something that made the situation even more heartbreaking. She was a mother. Inside her pouch was a tiny pinkie, still completely dependent on her.
In wildlife rescue, moments like this stop time. They bring the full weight of responsibility into focus. Every decision must be made not just with compassion, but with clarity, guided by what is in the animal’s best interests.
After careful assessment, and with no viable path to recovery, we made the devastating decision to euthanise both mum and joey on Christmas Day.
Days filled with celebration do not pause the realities faced by our wildlife. Injury, trauma, and loss do not wait for convenient moments. They arrive regardless of holidays, family gatherings, or quiet hopes that nothing will go wrong today.
Euthanasia is never an easy choice. It is not a failure of care. In cases like this, it is an act of responsibility, choosing a peaceful end over prolonged pain when there is no chance of recovery or rehabilitation. It is one of the heaviest burdens wildlife rehabilitators carry, and one the public rarely sees.
What stays with us most are not the dramatic rescues, but these quiet, devastating ones. The animals who did not suffer long, but suffered enough. The joeys who never opened their eyes. The knowledge that stopping, assessing, and acting still mattered, even when the outcome could not be changed.
This rescue was a hard reminder of why we do this work, and why it is needed every single day of the year.
If you are driving, please slow down, especially from dusk to dawn. If you see injured wildlife, please stop rather than driving past. And please call for help. Even when the outcome cannot be changed, compassion still matters.
If you find injured or orphaned wildlife in Tasmania, please contact Bonorong Wildlife Sanctuary on 0447 264 625, any time of the day or night.
Stories like this often prompt people to ask how they can help, or whether they could do this work themselves. Wildlife rescue is not just about responding in moments of crisis. It is a long-term commitment to learning, restraint, and responsibility, and to making decisions that are sometimes quietly devastating, but always made in the animal’s best interests.
In Tasmania, wildlife carers are trained, registered, and supported through recognised organisations. The pathway usually begins with volunteering, mentoring, and education, rather than immediate hands-on rescue. Please contact Bonorong for more information.
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