Echidnas are weird. They’re one of my very favourite animals and I’m very happy to have crossed paths with one at Darkes Forest on a recent bush walk. But, seriously, let’s talk about their weirdness.
Firstly, they’re solitary animals with large home ranges but no permanent address. They will use wombat and rabbit burrows to rest in, fallen logs, scrapes in the ground, piles of leaf litter next to tree trunks, just about anywhere to sleep.
They’re Australia’s most widespread native mammal, being found in deserts and snow fields and, yes, even Thirroul train station. Come winter though, up to 10 males will trail a female, one behind the other, forming breeding trains that can last for weeks as the individuals all forage and rest together until one male is successful in mating with the ‘lucky’ lady.
They have pouches, but they’re not permanent pouches like, say, a kangaroo has. Instead, they have muscles in their abdomen that contract to make a pouch-like fold to hold the one, small, leathery egg that the female lays.
Even though the pouch isn’t permanent, the female carries the egg for around 10 days and then the newly hatched puggle for approximately 50 days. And they feed their young milk, but they don’t have teats. On either side of the pouch are milk patches that the newly hatched puggle suckles at.
And the babies are SERIOUSLY tiny. Renowned echidna researcher Dr Peggy Rismiller puts it this way: “Hold an Australian 5 cent coin in your hand and remember it takes eight newly hatched echidnas to weigh as much as the coin.”
Go on, grab a coin, and, yes, it’s the one with the echidna on the face. See? Tiny! These tiny animals go on to grow into incredible climbers, with animals sighted two metres up a tree; fabulous swimmers; and very strong animals, able to move large fallen logs and rocks and, as one wildlife carer discovered, even a fridge!
Now, if I haven’t convinced you of their uniqueness, just google ‘echidna penis’ and I’ll rest my case. Our encounter wasn’t particularly weird though and instead consisted of us quietly watching as our spiky friend snuffled and dug for termites and ants, their favourite food, along with worms and beetles and other larvae. And it was brilliant. Every last minute.
I might have squealed loudly when I spotted it and held back a tear or two getting to spend so much time in its presence, but that’s to be expected when you’re face to face with Australia’s most weird and definitely wonderful animal.
