I love the platypus… it’s my favorite animal, distantly followed by sloths, kinkajous and wombats. When we moved to Australia and I knew I’d be on a continent with two of my four faves, I was practically vibrating with glee.  The Healesville Sanctuary became one of my favorite places, and quickly.

The kids loved going, so we went a lot. It wasn’t because they were the future superheroes of the natural world. It was because I bought them all the french fries (chips) they could eat and feed to the crazy ibis – funky stalking birds the kids called ‘sneaky boys’ because they were expert at reaching around from behind to steal Mac’s and Sam’s fries.

Look, a girl has to do what a girl has to do. If manipulating the frack out of my kids with french fries so they would beg to go to my favorite place was what it took? Okay, I’m not proud but…. wait. Yes I am.

The platypus, or ‘duck-billed platypus’ has it all – a semi-aquatic egg-laying mammal with a beaver’s tail and a duck’s beak (okay, bill) and otters’ feet.  And, bonus, the boys get a venomous spur on their hind foot!

I know, right?

And I know a lot of people like platypi because they can totally relate to their clearly observable identity crisis, but I like the little buggers for a different reason.  With so many different physical gifts, it just feels like they have so many choices for what they really want to be when they grow up. These little suckers are walking, waddling, paddling, swimmer-ing examplars of potential.

Oh, also, they are wicked soft.

No really.

They rival minks and stuff.

So when I came across a stuffed platypus in the pets section of Home Goods the other day, I was pretty dang excited. And then I found two… I know!

When I got home with my Rescue Platypi, upon closer examination, I realized that they were both pregnant.

I know. Spay and neuter, people. S p a y  a n d N e u t e r.

But, yep, each had two ‘eggs’ inside of their little bellies… super special squeaky ones.

Very rare.

And also, it seems, shepHerd-safe.

I know this because HRH the Princess Bunny Blaze and Marshal Dillon Dingle performed crude cesarians on them regularly and not only did the platypi not seem to mind, but the eggs never even broke!

Nature’s miracles are ever-surprising.

Life finds a way.

Oh! Sorry, not my point.

So the platypi up there? At the top of the post?

My point in taking her photo is to show you the last quiet, clear pic I would get the other night…

Just before midnight…

Darkened hallway…

I’d just gotten a text from our youngest, and I knew what was about to happen.

This:

 

Ya.

They may not have beaver tails and duck bills and maybe they can’t lay eggs or swim with feet a’webbed.

But I think the plain ol’ family dawg needs to be on my list of favorite animals.

Sure, I may not have to trudge out into nature, or half way across the world to lay eyes on them…

But I think they’ve earned it.

Thanks for readin’.

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