Possum-mania

I may be a country gal at heart, 

but there are some critters I just don't take too kindly to.

Possums are one of those critters.

Don't get me wrong, they are cute in their own odd furry rat-like way.

But possums and I will never be friends.

Plus, after what happened on Sunday; well, I have a feeling that possums will be staying far away from me by  choice. . . let me explain.

I was awoken at 7:30 a.m. by Chicken.  

It went something like this. . .

Chicken: Bo, I have to go to work and there was a frickin possum. . . like a 20 pound possum sitting on the deck.   And Max almost ran into him, and I didn't notice him at first, I just noticed him when Max almost ran into him.  He's still behind the towel holder on the deck.  

Bo: What?

Chicken: Don't let my dogs out until the possum is gone.

Bo: Are you serious?

Chicken: Yes, I'm serious.  I've called mom, she and dad will be over to take care of it before they go to church.

Bo: Mumble.

Chicken: Bo, did you get that? Bo? Bo!

Bo: . . . possum is eating your dog, get a towel for mom and dad's church. . . ummm humm.

(Chicken's dog Max)

Chicken: If I come home and my dogs have rabies. . . 

(door slam, stomp, stomp, stomp)

Bo:  So I must admit, I kind of thought the whole conversation I had with Chicken was just a dream.  

Chicken:  Which is why I took a picture of the possum before I left, because I knew if it ran off you'd never believe it was actually here. 

Photo Evidence:

I went outside, cautiously, 

looking for this deranged rabid possum.   I looked and looked, and looked, and all I found was. . .

nothing.  Absolutely nothing.
I let the dogs out into the backyard and stayed with them- looking everywhere- just in case.

Then by a fluke, I remembered that the hot tub could probably use another chlorine tablet.  I reached over the open the large plastic towel storage container and I saw him. He'd wedged himself between the side of the house and the towel storage box.  I had no idea what to do.  

If I left him alone, he might decide my backyard was the perfect place to live and take up residence under the deck; if I tried to remove him by myself, I could end up getting bit and catching rabies.  I went inside to strategize and suddenly my mom pulled in the drive way.

Chicken:  IF you had been listening to me that morning; then you'd have known that I called mom to come over and help.

Bo:  Well, I thought it was magic and that she knew by her magical mom powers that I was in need of rescuing so she came to save the day.   Which one makes the better story?
Chicken:  Which one actually happened?
Bo:  Anyway, I showed mom the possum.  The thing had to be at least 30 pounds.  Honestly, I've seen possums before- but I've never seen one that big.

Then mom had this great idea. . .

Mom: I'll use the snow shovel and rake.  We'll just scoop him up and just reach over the fence and sit him in the front yard.  That way he can just run wherever he wants to- away from here.

That seemed like a sound plan.  
But what actually happened was. . .

When I finally lifted up the shovel full of possum, the handle slid out of my hand and he plopped (not so gracefully) on the other side of the fence.

As I panicked thinking he could be injured, the possum proceeded to walk calmly around the deck, between the slats in the fence that divides the front & backyard and back into the backyard flower beds.

Okay, so we were back at square one.  The possum was back in the backyard, only now he was tiptoeing through the wilted tulips.   

So I asked my mom...

Bo: Now what?

Mom: Okay, new plan.  We'll just let him go for a little while and watch him.  I bet he'll climb the fence and be on his merry little way.

10 minutes later. . . the possum is strolling through the dormant flower beds- still.  

Bo: I think we're going to have to come up with a new plan, mom.  Or else I'm going to have to deal with the fact that a possum is now living in my backyard.

Mom: Are you still having trouble with your lawn mower.

Bo:Yeah.

Mom: Well, where is it?

Bo:In the garage.  Mom, we need to deal with this possum first then we can worry about the lawn mower.  

Mom: Go get the lawn mower out of the garage.  This possum will be out of the yard by the time you get back with it.

Bo: O...kkkkaaay.

I was totally confused, but when ahead with going to the garage to get the lawn mower out . . because when your mom asks you to do something- you do it.

I really wish I would have stayed out there though, because when I finally got back to the back yard I saw my mom using the snow shovel to hit the side of one of the lilac trees that had - you guessed it- the possum- climbing up it.  

As I stood there with a look of shock on my face, I watched as the possum, took his own sweet time to shimmy from the lilac tree to the top of the fence, over it, and out of sight.

My mom just causally passed the whole event off as nothing and reminded me to come over for dinner because she was making chili.   Seriously, there is nothing that scares moms.

I thought all was well until we had our first 'Panic Snow'.

We have a few each year.  'Panic Snows' are when the newscasters talk up the coming snow claiming it to be of 'blizzard' proportions which causes the masses to panic and raid the grocery stores.  It's good for business  but bad if you just happen to need essentials like toilet paper or food.

 Any-who. . . Chicken and I were watching the snow through the patio door and what do you know.  Here comes hop-along-possum himself, strolling across the deck.

Bo: We believe that this guy is living under the deck, but neither one of us is brave enough. . .

Chicken: or crazy enough

Bo: To crawl under there and see.  The way I see it is, as long as he

Chicken: or she

Bo:  doesn't bother us or our dogs, I'm fine with him living under the deck.

Chicken: Yeah, that really sounds rabies-tastic.
Bo:  Come on it's been nearly 3 weeks now with no possum sightings.
Chicken: I guess all's well until the early bird finds the possum.
Bo: And by bird, I'm assuming you mean Chicken.