NATIVE ANIMALS AS PETS
Can’t I keep it?
In the quiet embrace of the Australian bush, a heartwarming scene unfolds: a kind-hearted individual stumbles upon a native animal, seemingly in need of help. The impulse to protect and nurture this creature is as natural as the eucalyptus leaves rustling in the gentle breeze. The desire to become its guardian, a beacon of hope for its future, is strong. “Can’t I keep it?” echoes with a mixture of innocence and concern.
Imagine the delight in a child’s eyes, the wonder and curiosity sparked by the presence of such a unique being. The educational value appears immense, the experience, unforgettable. Yet, beneath this well-intentioned dream lies a harsh reality that could spell disaster for our furry or feathered friend.
Native animals, like the elusive Echidna or the vibrant Lorikeet, are not like the pets we’re accustomed to. They are wild spirits, with instincts honed by the rugged landscapes and dense forests of Australia. They don’t adapt to human companionship as a dog might wag its tail at your return. Their diets are a mosaic of specific flora and fauna, a far cry from the kibble and treats that fill our domestic animals’ bowls. A simple meal intended for a cat or a dog could be lethal to them.
Consider the joeys, those adorable infants snug in their mothers’ pouches. They are lactose intolerant, their bodies rejecting the milk we might assume nourishes all young mammals. Without a specialized formula, these little ones face a bleak future, their chances of thriving dwindling with each passing day.
It’s a sad tale that wildlife rescuers know all too well: animals brought to them in a state of decline, after well-meaning individuals attempt to rear them. The distress is palpable, a heavy weight on the hearts of those who wanted nothing more than to help, and most acutely on the animal that suffers despite their efforts.
The paramount question we must ask ourselves before taking on the role of caretaker is, “What is truly best for the animal in the long run?” It’s not just a matter of legalities—though it is indeed against the law to keep native animals as pets—but a matter of survival. Rehabilitation organizations painstakingly train carers to ensure these animals can fend for themselves upon release back into the wild, their natural home.
To raise a native animal without its innate understanding of the environment, without the social skills to interact with its own kind, is to set it up for failure. A Kangaroo that approaches a dog as a friend, or a Cockatoo that cannot recognize its natural food, is an animal that has been stripped of its essence, its very ability to be wild.
The stories of unintentional harm are numerous and heartbreaking: beaks malformed, bones weakened, feathers imperfect for flight, fur too sparse to ward off the chill of the night. These are the silent testimonies of love misguided, of care that inadvertently does more harm than good.
The truth is, native animals flourish best among their own kind, where they can learn the language of the land and the secrets of survival from those who know it best. They should be raised to recognize the foods they will find in the bush and the rivers, to understand the delicate dance of predator and prey, to feel the pulse of the wild that runs through their veins.
So, when you next encounter a native animal in need, remember that the greatest act of love you can offer is to seek the expertise of those trained to give it the best chance at a wild, free life. It’s a choice that respects the call of the wild that echoes in the heart of every native creature that calls Australia home.
I would like to keep it as a pet.
It’s tempting, isn’t it, to want to draw a piece of Australia’s wild beauty into your own life by making a bird, a possum, or another native creature your companion. But pause for a moment, and consider the harmony of their existence.
These animals are not like the pets we’re accustomed to, such as dogs, cats, or birds raised in the cosy confines of human care. These wild beings have a spirit that has not been moulded by centuries of domestic breeding. Their instincts are finely tuned to the rhythms of the natural world – instincts that tell them they are wild, as surely as the stars know their place in the night sky.
When we encounter these animals, especially in moments of vulnerability, our compassion may urge us to bring them into our homes. Yet, despite our best intentions, a home can never replicate the freedom and the intricate balance of their true habitats. And while they may seem adaptable, without the proper wild upbringing, they may struggle to thrive if ever they return to their natural environment.
So what is the most caring act we can perform for these creatures we admire so deeply? Reach out to your nearest wildlife organisation or National Parks office. These guardians of nature are equipped with the knowledge and the means to provide the aid these animals need. By entrusting the wellbeing of your newfound friend to their skilled hands, you ensure that the animal receives the care it truly requires.
By making this choice, you do more than help one animal; you honour the delicate web of life that connects us all. You become a steward of the wild, a protector of the natural order, and in doing so, you do the right thing – the only right thing – for the animal whose life has briefly intersected with your own.
Why can’t I raise this Kangaroo or Wallaby joey as a pet ?
Imagine, if you will, a tiny kangaroo or wallaby joey, with its soft fur and big, trusting eyes, nestled in the palms of your hands. The allure of such a creature is undeniable; they seem the perfect embodiment of innocence and charm. It’s easy to be swept away by the fantasy of raising one of these native Australian animals as a pet, especially when the heartstrings are tugged at the sight of their endearing faces. But let’s embark on a journey together to understand why this dream, though tempting, is far from an ideal reality.
Firstly, consider the transformation from a cuddly joey to a full-grown macropod. Unlike domesticated companions like cats and dogs, which have been selectively bred over millennia to adapt to human cohabitation, kangaroos and wallabies remain untamed spirits of the bush. Their evolution is etched in the vast landscapes of Australia, not the confines of a suburban backyard.
Imagine for a moment the world through the eyes of a kangaroo or wallaby. The average yard becomes a prison, with towering fences erected not to keep dangers out, but to keep a wild heart in. These fences, standing at least 6 feet high, may prevent escape, but they also serve as a stark reminder that this is not where a kangaroo or wallaby truly belongs.
These marsupials thrive on the company of their own kind. In a domestic setting, isolation looms, and the absence of a mob can lead to profound stress. The dangers lurking in the shadows of such an environment are numerous. The risk of disease, such as toxoplasmosis contracted from cats, is ever-present. The mere sound of a dog barking or a lawnmower rumbling to life could send your “pet” into a frenzy, potentially leading to fatal injuries or the debilitating condition known as myopathy.
Everyday household activities pose unforeseen threats. The simple act of gardening, with its fertilizers rich in phosphates, becomes a lethal hazard. The routine spraying of insecticides, a common practice, is now off-limits. And the daily removal of faeces becomes a necessity to prevent diseases like coccidiosis.
As your joey matures into adulthood, its instincts will surge, and it may perceive you as a mate rather than a caretaker, leading to dangerous encounters. Should the day come when the novelty wanes, or the challenges become too great, the heartbreaking reality is that a domesticated kangaroo or wallaby cannot simply be returned to the wild. They lack the essential survival skills, leaving euthanasia as the only humane option.
Now, let’s turn our gaze to the broader picture: our native wildlife, which is truly “wild” at heart. These animals are the living, breathing essence of Australia’s natural beauty. They belong not within the confines of our homes but amidst the eucalyptus trees, roaming the vast open spaces that are their birthright.
So let us cherish them in their natural habitat, where they can leap and bound freely, where the sunsets cast long shadows over the bush, and where the only fences are those that skirt the horizon. By preserving their environment and observing from a respectful distance, we ensure that these magnificent creatures continue to thrive—not as pets, but as the wild, untamed symbols of our country’s unique heritage.
If you find a joey, please call your nearest wildlife organisation immediately for help; do not be tempted to hang onto it for a while. A joey needs special care and special formula, do the right thing, call for help.