December 19, 2008
My name is Teddy the thylocine (Tie-low-sign). That’s right. I am a thylocine, and that isn’t a typo. I am a marsupial. Some call me a Tasmanian tiger because I have the stripes on my back. I love to go to Exxon, pose as the mascot, and say advertisers can stretch the truth. But I digress. Let me tell you a little about me.
I am from the Australian island Tasmania. I am what is a called a marsupial, meaning I have a pouch on the underside of my belly. I look like a dog and a tiger’s love child, so nobody accepts me (just kidding). I look like a dog with tiger stripes. Many people think I belong to the canine family, but dogs don’t have pouches on their bellies, and if they did, their owners would probably hide treats for the dog in their own pouches just to see them try and get it out. In terms to a dog, I am the size of a full-grown Golden retriever. But the difference is that I can jump over 8 feet high. Yeah. Try and hold my toy above my head, see if I can’t get it. My stripes used to be really noticeable when I was young, but as I got older, I noticed that they started to fade away. I guess I have a receding stripe line? I don’t know.
My eating habits were basic; if they’re slow, they’re going to get eaten. I ate what I got my hands on. I have a really big mouth. I could open it over 120 degrees. That’s like a flip-open cell phone. So imagine a cell phone that could eat a kangaroo. That’s me. I’m more of night person. I’m nocturnal. The freaks come out at night. Yes sir.
Well, now we get to the sad part of the story. Around the 1930’s, people started to claim that I attacked sheep. It didn’t help that did, too. So people started to put bounties on my head. They started to go around killing my kind. They were ruthless, I tellz ya. There were a few that wanted top save my kind from total extinction. The last known thylocine was kept in the Hobart Zoo. He...