Bless This Hobart Woman Who Mistook A Living, Breathing Tasmanian Devil For Her Dog’s Stuffed Toy

Close up shot of a Tasmanian devil with text on screen which reads: "yes it is i, a toy"

Pour one out for this Hobart woman who mistook an actual Tasmanian devil in her home for a dog toy, which she tried to pick up because she thought it was an inanimate object.

Bless her.

Kirsten Lynch told the ABC the devilish saga kicked off at about 10pm on Wednesday, when she heard her wee golden retriever pup let out a “strange” bark.

As far as doggy noises go, barks within the “peculiar” sound category are not ideal. They’re up there with that extremely visceral retching noise dogs make before they heave up their breakfast, which will never fail to send me into a tizzy.

But alas, I digress. Lynch said she went to find her puppy to make sure they were OK and picked up what she thought was its Tasmanian devil-shaped plush toy.

However, it was not stuffed toy. It was a living, breathing, rooting and tooting Tasmanian devil, which hoofed it under the couch when Lynch reached for it.

“I got a fright of my life. I woke the whole family up,” she said.

“This little Tasmanian devil was hiding underneath my couch.”

I would’ve absolutely pulled a Lynch and lost my marbles if what I thought was an innocent, lifeless toy started running around the joint. It’s like being gaslit by Woody and Buzz in Toy Story.

“At one stage we had the whole family standing on the dining room table while my husband was trying to chase the poor thing out with a broom,” Lynch continued.

I am truly obsessed with this mental image because it reminds me of that deeply iconic video of the Irish dad trying to catch a bat which had somehow gotten into the kitchen. If the kids weren’t shouting, “CATCH IT, DERRY,” ad nauseam I will be disappointed.

I know the tale — or tail, if you will — of the Tasmanian devil going rogue is set in Hobart and not somewhere in Ireland, so there is quite a low chance the Dad’s name is “Derry” and such a demand would be rendered useless. But it would be for the bit, for the bit I tell you.

Thankfully the wee devil yeeted outside unharmed. As for how the crafty critter moseyed into the house in the first place, Lynch said she lives next to bushland in Sandy Bay and sometimes leaves the door open so her pup can jet outside if it needs a slash. Alas, her hypothesis is that the Tasmanian devil wandered in via the open door, much like Marie and Frank Barone in Everybody Loves Raymond.

If you are in Tasmania and spot a lost, sick, injured or orphaned ‘lil devil — or any other wildlife — don’t do a Chris “Noted Beekeeper” Pratt and try to take matters into your own hands. Instead, call a wildlife sanctuary or rescue service, so they can take care of the bubs.

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