This post has been incredibly difficult to write. Even now, years later, the emotions are still raw, and the memories bring tears to my eyes. Losing Rosie still hurts so deeply, and the empty space she left behind is one I feel every day. The life of a wildlife carer has its moments of joy, but it also has its share of heartbreak—really down, sad, and horrible days that can weigh so heavily on your heart. Rosie’s story is a testament to both the beauty and the challenges of this journey, and it’s one that will always stay with me.

In April 2019, my beautiful Rosie came into care with her sister, Tappy. Rosie was a failure-to-thrive joey at a centre, and after some time with a volunteer, it was decided she would come to me rather than return to the centre. At the time, we needed more girls for our pen, so it worked out beautifully. Oh, they were the most adorable girls, and we bonded right away. Rosie quickly became Mumma’s girl.

We started with short visits to the pen to help her adjust. When she reached 10kg—the weight we decided was right—she stayed overnight in the pen for the first time. There were plenty of others in there for her to interact with, but I didn’t sleep a wink that night. Before dawn, I rushed to the pen, and my poor Rosie was beside herself, with Tappy not much better. I brought them home immediately, but Rosie deteriorated during the day. After consulting the vet, the diagnosis was myopathy. We suspect she had experienced it before, based on conversations with her previous carers. With 24-hour, round-the-clock care, she pulled through.

We resumed her pen visits, but it wasn’t easy. I would bring her home at night and let her rest during the day in the shelter we had set up with hanging bags.. She was still weak, so I gave her downtime in there everyday with Tappy. Eventually, I had to get her used to overnight stays. My heart broke every time I left her, as she would race along the fence line, crying as I walked to my car. I had to be tough, but it was agonising. I made frequent visits during the day, but I realised this was doing more harm than good for her adjustment, so was forced to make the decision to stop.

Things took a turn when I became seriously ill and was airlifted to Perth. Wonderful carers stepped in to check on her, give her bottles, and provide grain, but Rosie withdrew. I suspect she experienced another bout of myopathy during this time. When I returned, she relocated to Amaris, with the rest of my mob. Here she thrived in the freedom of the bush. But Rosie always knew where home was—her spot was right on the mat at the back door, with a pillow just for her. She had her freedom - she had me. In her eyes life was perfect now!!

Despite her progress, Rosie faced more challenges. She broke her tail, and while the vet advised leaving it to heal naturally, it didn’t heal properly. Still, she remained the happiest, most loving girl, showing no signs of pain and getting around just fine. She became Cruz’s buddy in his pen after Charlie needed to be removed because of rough play.. She became a wonderful Mumma to Jonti, but it broke my heart to see her struggle. She tired quickly and slept a lot, and I often saw Jonti guiding her Mumma into the pen to rest. Rosie’s strength and love as a mother were extraordinary. Then she was mated again and we all welcomed Rossie. But carrying the new baby was too much for her. One evening she tipped Rossie out of her pouch, I managed to get him back in again. The next morning when I stepped outside and noticed Rosie wasn’t at the back door. My heart sank—I knew. I found her near the pen, with Rossie tucked in her pouch and Jonti standing nearby, confused and mourning. I took Rossie into care at just 1.3kg and gave Jonti time to grieve her Mumma. We then arranged for Rosie to be cremated, but the loss was immeasurable. Rosie was my little sidekick, always by my side. The empty space she left in my heart is still there, and tears still stream when I think of her.

I suspect Rosie died of heart failure. After enduring so many bouts of myopathy, carrying Rossie in her pouch, and tirelessly caring for Jonti, it was simply too much for her fragile heart. She gave everything she had to her little ones, and in the end, her love and dedication were unmatched.

What stood out most about Rosie, from the moment I met her, were her eyes, (Jonti and Rossie have/had those eyes as well) deep and so intense. It was those eyes that looked straight into my soul and touched something so deep inside me. In her gaze, I saw trust—a trust so pure and profound it made me want to do everything in my power to protect her, to keep her safe from every hardship life might throw her way. There was a quiet strength in those eyes too, as though she had already endured more than any joey should have to, yet still held onto hope. That trust, that connection, bound us so tightly together that I knew I would fight with everything I had for her. But we lost the battle. I’m thankful she left the world peacefully with both of her babies close by. .

Rosie was so special, so beautiful. Her story is one of resilience, love, and the unbreakable bond between a carer and her joey. She will always be a part of me, and her legacy lives on through Jonti and her babies. 💔

Meet Rossie HERE Meet Jonti HERE

Meet Rosie

Meet Maisie

Meet Jonti