Let’s hear it for the Antipodean Satan Number One

The Tasmanian Devil was simply snuffling in the snow beneath the bedroom window of the guesthouse where our friend was sleeping somewhere in  upland Tasmania, last month. 

Hearing it and then seeing it, she thought it was an awful looking yoke. “Horrible”, she said.

I can’t understand why. In the pictures I’ve seen of devils — I’ve never encountered one, never having visited the Antipodes — they have always looked to me like oversize, truncated, pine martens.