Possums Get on My Nerves

When I was a little girl, my older brother had a mother possum living in a cage in our backyard. I was thrilled when he designated one of the newborn babies as mine. It was tiny, about the size of a lima bean, and didn't do anything fun or entertaining. I quickly lost interest. That was the end of my experience with possums...or so I thought.

In 2005 I bought my first house, located in a woody area with lots of pine trees. (That was before Hurricane Ike. There aren't as many now.) The neighbor behind me has a pond that extends almost up to my property. Shortly after I moved in, I got my first dog and a re-introduction to possums.

My dog Sadie loves to spend the last hour of the day in the back yard. It's her "me" time. One night she began pacing frantically along the back fence, a 6-ft. high privacy fence. Up and back, up and back she went, growling furiously at something. "What on earth!" I thought and went out to see what the fuss was about. There it was - a possum frozen in place, interrupted in the midst of his nightly walk across the top of the fence to wherever it is that possums go at night. I'm not sure I want to know where that is.

I could not get Sadie to quit barking or jumping up at the possum. I even held treats in front of her nose. She would grab them and get back to the business at hand. This went on fairly regularly, and I just had to wait until she would get tired and come back inside. Stupid, stupid possum!

One morning I heard Sadie outside, and there was just something in her bark. "What fresh hell is this?" I thought. When I reached her, I saw her dancing around something on the ground. A possum. A dead possum. (I know what you are thinking, and I had heard all the stories about "playing possum" when I grew up, but when you are face to face with a possum, I have found that you aren't always thinking straight.) Well, I just let Sadie bark while I went inside to get the broom and dust pan and a bag to dispose of the possum. Surely I must have put Sadie back inside right now, but I don't remember it. I was a little traumatized.

I got the bag open and slid the dust pan under the possum, and it moved. On reflex I flung my arm wildly up toward the fence. The possum went over the fence, but there was a sound. The best way I know to describe it was that it sounded as if a small mammal had come into contact with wood spikes on the top of a six-foot fence. I was shaken to say the least.

One night several months later, I found Sadie prancing around the back yard, proudly carrrying something in her mouth. It looked like a squirrel from where I stood. When she dropped it, I went in for a closer look. It was a baby possum. Sadie picked it back up and proceeded to do the Snoopy Happy Dance with this new toy. After five minutes of my trying to get her to come inside, she did. She must not have understood the instructions because the possum was in her mouth. This must have been a baby because of its size. "Poor dead thing," I thought, and muscled Sadie off to her crate. I don't like them, but who doesn't hate to see a baby die.
Again I went for the dust pan, broom and bag, my burial equipment. When I came back into the den to dispose of the body, the body turned over, looked me right in the eye, and ran under my sofa. Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me, right? Really, though, Sadie had dragged it around for about 5 minutes.

I called my neighbor and his son to come remove the possum which had now gotten behind my stereo. I sure wasn't going to mess with it. They finally caught him and life got back to normal. I hadn't even seen any possums for a while until recently.
Then last week I heard the ruckus again. Now it was not only from Sadie but newly acquired Murphy as well. I thought, "Dadgum it! Is that a possum again after all this time?" And it was. I had a hard enough time getting Sadie away in the pre-Murphy days; how was I going to handle this. Long, lean Murphy is almost tall enough to reach the top of the fence when he stretches out. I got my broom. I figured I could swat at the two of them if worse came to worst. I got my flashlight and walked out to the fence. The trees in front of the fence were blocking my view of the top of the fence where they were barking. I peered more closely when I realized that two eyes were peering at me from about one foot away. Okay, I jumped, but what I did next makes me proud. I picked up the broom by the handle, looked the possum right in the eye, and pushed it to the other side of the fence. The dogs looked around puzzled? "Uh, which way did he go, which way did he go" - that look. They looked for another minute or two, then followed me back into the den to watch the rest of American Idol. I will say it again, though. Possums just get on my nerves.