Rare animal

Even though I received 2nd place in high school for my short story on the topic of careers, I’ve never been particularly fond of fiction. There are countless incredible true stories that remain unwritten or captured in any form. I am eager to tell you, my reader, about two strange animal stories from my real estate career.

On a clear sunny day in February 2021, I was making my way to a remote property in Bethel, near Kapunda. This area is part of the Adelaide Plains, which stretch northward from South Australia’s capital city. The terrain is mostly flat, featuring vast grasslands that extend to the horizon, occasionally intersected by a dirt road. You could drive a long distance without seeing a single house or car in sight. That day, I was en route to one of those original settler homes, which was rather run-down and leased to a mature lady tenant who had lots of pets. My eyes were scanning the fields for any signs of interest when, out of nowhere, a greyish/brownish coloured, skinny animal crossed my path. At first, I thought it was a dog, as it was of a medium dog size but then I noticed that its back was either broken or strangely arched.

The other intriguing detail regarding this ‘dog’ was its notably elongated nose, almost cylindrical in shape, snout-like, in comparison to any dog breed. I thought to myself that it could be an Australian anteater. Later that day, I took to the internet to find any information about this species, only to learn that there is no animal known as the Australian anteater. This creature was much larger and moved at a slower pace than the swift Numbat who I found to be of a similar anatomy, except for the tail shape, which is very different. It crossed the dirt road in front of my car and went straight into the dry vegetation on the other side of the road, and I was not able to spot it again to examine its features more closely. I often find myself returning to this encounter in my thoughts, revisiting this strange thylacine-anteater creature on Bethel Rd.

Bethel Rd, SA. Credit: Google Maps screenprint

After this recalling this event, I searched my mind for any other similar experiences, but I had little success. It was only after reading a tale in which the author stated that his mind had erased memories of a traumatic event - that I found clarity. You can read this passage in Going to America by Nick Athanassiadis:

“Do you remember when we almost ditched in the Atlantic?”

I blinked at him. “What?”

He laughed. “You’ve forgotten? Emergency landing in St. John’s? One engine? Crash position?”

I stared at him like he was telling someone else’s story. Apparently, my brain had decided: Nope, that file is too traumatic. Delete.

This led to the story that is presented below drawn from my mental archives. Suddenly in my mind, I was transported into a time in my life where my eyesight protected me from experiencing a traumatic sight as it was happening right in front of me in broad daylight. I am talking about star, obviously, read backward.

A professional property manager’s eyes are trained to quickly identify any damages or neglect on house surfaces during routine property inspections. Thus, I would focus on floors, doors, walls, windows, ceilings including light fittings and bathroom/kitchen surfaces. Your eyes skim over the tenant furniture and belongings and focus on the building and fixtures. Around that time, following news of a murder involving a female agent, the agency I worked for implemented a policy requiring two people to conduct inspections together for safety. My colleague, an outgoing young man in his mid-20s, accompanied me, while the tenant, an unassuming man in his late 50s, was present at the home. As we toured the house and reached the laundry and separate toilet at the back leading from the laundry, I was busy inspecting the property while my colleague engaged in conversation with the tenant. While examining the laundry surfaces, I failed to notice two large cages positioned next to the trough. I observed the trough, louvre windows, concrete floor, and noticed signs of termite damage on the toilet door’s architrave. Returning to the hallway, just as I was about to inquire about the termite damage, I overheard the tenant proudly explaining to my colleague how quickly they multiply and how many he currently has. As they pointed to a specific spot in the spacious laundry area, I was taken aback that I had walked past so many dreadful creatures without noticing. Whether a result of my professional training or by fate, my eyesight spared me from seeing that day. Perhaps the animals remained quiet or otherwise, they sensed if they made a smallest disguising squeaking noise, the whole neighbourhood would be rocked by the screaming agent.