Quotes About Wildlife

Cats kill far more birds than men. Why don't you have a slogan: 'Kill a cat and save a bird?'

Probably nature itself gave man the ability to lie so that in difficult and tense moments he could protect his nest, just as do the vixen and wild duck.

What is man without the beasts? If all the beasts were gone, men would die from great loneliness of spirit

Africa gives you the knowledge that man is a small creature, among other creatures, in a large landscape.

Until the day comes when the senseless killing ends, we will all have to fight like wildlife warriors to protect our precious planet.

Bindi, Robert, and I would do our best to make sure that Steve's light wasn't hidden under a bushel. It would continue to sine as we worked together to protect all wildlife and all wild places.

Devils can be quite comical little animals, intense and wild. The Looney Tunes cartoon character "Taz" is an exaggeration, of course, because devils only spin like Taz if they're kept too confined.

He had told me before, but that night in the truck it hit home: Steve lived for wildlife and he would die for wildlife. He came by his convictions sincerely, from the bottom of his heart. He was more than just my husband that night. He was my hero.

Forever afterward, Steve and I referred to the Cattle Creek rescue as our honeymoon trip. It also marked the beginning of Steve's filming career. He was gifted with the ability to hunt down wildlife. But he hunted animals to save them, not kill them. That's how the Crocodile Hunter was born.

There was a big wide world out there. We were just a small wildlife park in Australia. It was absurd to think the two of us could change the world. But our love seemed to make the impossible appear not only possible, but inevitable. I look back on the talk we had during the ride to the zoo from Cattle Creek as helping to create the basis of our marriage. No matter what problems came along, we were determined to stay together, because side by side we could face anything.

The best times in my life were out in the bush with Steve.

Steve was right. Bringing people into close proximity to wildlife was all you had to do.

The emotional roller coaster of rescue work never seemed to end. I named my facility "Cougar Country" to highlight my focus, but I found myself called to help many different animals--in veterinarians' offices, in the field, in classrooms and courtrooms. Somehow I kept it all together, and ran Westates Flagman, too. My day had forty-eight hours. It helped that I had no social life.

Completely naïve about Australia's importation and quarantine regulations, I nevertheless thought that surely there might be some opportunities down under for people doing educational work with wildlife, who might be able to take a cougar. Visiting Australia again, I thought, might not be a bad idea. How could I have known then that my decision would result, only a short time later, in a chance meeting with the man who would change my life?

Steve got up before me and left to check the trap. The fire was already going when I crawled out of my swag. I relived the events of the night before over my cup of tea. I heard the boat motor and saw that Steve was coming back, so I got up and ran down to the riverbank to meet him. "We got one," he said, breathless. "A croc went in that trap after all, mate." "I guess maybe my splashing around attracted it," I said with a grin. He laughed.

I felt pleasantly tired, but Steve seemed more energized the longer we stayed in the bush. I would see it again and again over the years. This was where Steve belonged, and where he seemed most alive.

We were both covered in little flecks of wood, leaves, and bark. Steve's hair was unkempt, a couple of his shirt buttons were missing, and his shorts were torn. I thought he was the best-looking man I had ever seen in my life.

We toured the park, seeing parrots, wombats, and tiger snakes. "Koalas and primates," Dick said. "We'll get some koalas and primates and then we'll be set." I thought back to how many times Steve and I had said something similar. "Just one more species and then our zoo will be done." I was coming to realize that Australia Zoo would never be done. There were too many species in the world that needed our help.

We listened as he and his wife told us their wildlife stories. I wasn't sure why, but they seemed to really hate emus. I think it was because a panicked, running emu could put a hole right through the fence.

What'll it be?" Steve asked me, just days after our wedding. "Do we go on the honeymoon we've got planned, or do you want to go catch crocs?" My head was still spinning from the ceremony, the celebration, and the fact that I could now use the two words "my husband" and have them mean something real. The four months between February 2, 1992--the day Steve asked me to marry him--and our wedding day on June 4 had been a blur.

It was more than a wedding, it was saying good-bye to everyone I'd ever known. I invited everybody, even people who may not have been intimate friends. I even invited my dentist. The whole network of wildlife rehabilitators came too--four hundred people in all.

The cameras rolled. Charlie lunged. I cowered.

I avoided getting eaten on the Burdekin. I managed again to escape being flattened by a road train on the return trip to the zoo. My monthlong stay in Australia was nearing its end. The ache hadn't hit me yet, but I could feel it coming.

What does the future hold for the Irwin family? Each and every day is filled with incredible triumphs and moments of terrible grief. And in between, life goes on. We are determined to continue to honor and appreciate Steve's wonderful spirit. It lives on with all of us. Steve lived every day of his life doing what he loved, and he always said he would die defending wildlife. I reckon Bindi, Robert, and I will all do the same. God bless you, Stevo. I love you, mate.