Long-nosed bandicoots love to dig in the mulch at Amanda’s garden in Thirroul.  Photo: Amanda De GeorgeYou’re going to have to forgive me. I’ll need to paint the picture, predominantly, with words this month. But there was no way that I was going to let a little old, terrible quality trail-cam photo stop me from sharing with you our backyard visitor.

We’ve had bandicoots visiting our yard for as long as we’ve lived here. In fact, the long-nosed bandicoot can be found along the east coast of Australia, from Queensland right down to Tasmania. We had one particularly memorable night, before we were aware of the bandicoot visitors that stopped by as we slept, when a horrified guest shrieked that one of our guinea pigs had escaped! Cue many people running around, half-sloshed after this rabbit-sized marsupial as it dashed into the safety of a huge clump of ferns. Imagine our surprise, and that of our guinea pigs, as 6 or 7 concerned faces peered into their cage only to find them all there and all accounted for.

Now we know, mostly, who comes and goes, and the long-nosed bandicoots leave their mark. For one, they love to dig in our mulch. Using their long sensitive snout, they can sniff out food just below the surface. Once found, they use their two front paws to dig away, making just enough of a hole to get that snout in, hoping to find beetles and beetle larvae, spiders and the like, along with grasses and roots. And our soil must be absolutely teeming with delicious things to eat, because they come here night after night.

When the bandicoots are disturbed they let out a short series of noises which are best described as the squeaky kind of sound that a dog toy makes, part-squeak, part-breathy huff. And usually you can then hear them hopping off back to safety. In many cases, that little huffing squeak and the diggings are the only signs you’ll have of bandicoot visitors as they can be quite shy.

And so, last night, knowing I had a sub-par photo, I crept outside, around 8pm and set up the trail-cam once again. I steadied it and propped it up with rocks and trained its gaze at a series of diggings from the night before. A prime bandicoot spot. This morning I headed back out to retrieve what would surely be the perfect image. But on the camera there was nothing. Not a peep, not a huff, not a snuffle. Wild animals doing their wild animal thing, I guess. Next time, for sure.