Well the Mysterious Mystery of the Midnight Marauder has
been solved.
Spoiler: It wasn’t a skunk.
Double Spoiler: It wasn’t a bunny either.
I mean, I did get some video of a bunny scampering by the
first night I put out the GoPro and this did make Opie think he had called it.
And I had some pretty deep-seeded concerns that I would have to admit he was
right all along.
But then this morning all was revealed.
I got up around 5:30, like I always do, and took the dogs
out back. Again, like I always do. But I
knew immediately that something was wrong, that the jig (or critter) was up
because instead of going into the yard, the ridiculous dogs ran around the deck,
sniffing and scratching, scratching and sniffing, and generally causing a
ruckus. Sassy ran back over to the area
in front of the back door and, just like a few days ago, began digging and
barking at the flooring.
I snatched her up and got her inside only to realize that Bubba
had darted off the porch and was charging across the yard exactly like a dog
who doesn’t realize he’s 14 and should therefore have his critter hunting days
behind him.
So, I grabbed a flashlight (it was 5:30, people, it was
still pretty dark!) and charged out after him exactly like a woman who doesn’t
realize she’s not so young herself and should therefore have her critter hunting
days behind her.
Then, when I caught up with the Bub, I realized he was
pawing and nudging this big lump of fur with his nose. And, at first, I was
horrified because I thought that he had killed a bunny.
Until I took a step closer and saw it wasn’t a bunny at
all. It was a possum!
In related news, as I was writing this blog I started
wondering if it was opossum or possum or both and, being the research nerd that
I am, immediately stopped writing so I could find out.
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| This, in case you're wondering, is a phalanger. |
According to the Merriam Webster Dictionary, both are
correct when referring to the marsupial that meanders around North America. It’s
interesting to note that in Australia and New Zealand, there is a similar
creature referred to as a possum that is actually a phalanger. Seeing as this
blog is written in North America, that’s probably not relevant but honestly, I just
can’t help myself. Anyway, what is relevant is that in the US, possum is the
common usage while scientific journals etc. prefer opossum. However, when referring to the act of lying
on the ground pretending to be dead, the expression is always “playing possum”
not “playing opossum” Probably because alliteration is awesome.
In any case, now you all know all you’ve ever wanted to
know about the etymology of possum, opossum, and phalanger.
You’re welcome.
But, to get back to the overall point, I ran over to the
side yard, saw the poor possum lying on its side, mouth gaping open, and had to
literally wrestle Bubba away from it and in the house.
Then I ran back outside…I’m honestly not 100% sure why. I
mean, Opie is usually firmly in charge of carcass removal. But he was up most
of the night working and I was trying to let him sleep a little later and I guess
I thought I was going to see if there was anything I could do before dragging
him out of bed…
But none of that mattered because the possum wasn’t dead…it
was, you guessed it, PLAYING POSSUM!
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| This isn't the possum in question. It's a totally different possum playing possum. I'm including it to show you, they really LOOK DEAD even though they're faking. |
And when I shone my flashlight on him, he jumped to his
feet.
In other related news, we are now very grateful for social
distancing as this may be the only reason the neighbors haven’t come over to
complain about a woman screaming profanity in the backyard at 5:30 in the
morning.
But, horrified neighbors notwithstanding, this leaves us
with the problem of what to do about the possum that is currently squatting
underneath our deck.
Because, tree-hugging, animal-loving, bleeding-heart
liberal that I am, I don’t want to kill the possum. They don’t carry rabies,
they eat a lot of ticks, they’re good for the environment, they’re cute in
their own ugly way…but he’s not paying rent plus he’s bigger than Sassy and,
tough as she THINKS she is, I don’t see her coming out on top in a possum vs puppy
brawl. So, I don’t want to kill him but
I really don’t want him to live here any more.
My first step was to text my fellow tree-hugging, animal-loving
bleeding-heart liberal and now possibly ex-friend, Eric, and ask what he
thought I should do with a porch-dwelling possum
He said they really like
cuddles and kisses.
Which kind of reminded me
of the time I called Eric to find out what to do about the snake that was in
the compost bin. That time he said, “You’re so lucky! You must have a really
healthy ecosystem going!”
Which makes me question
why I continue to call Eric in these situations at all.
In any case, Opie and I
have come up with two very distinct plans. Opie‘s plan is to do nothing until I
run out of plans.
My plan is to use water
and light and loud noises to effectively convince the possum that our porch is
no place to raise a family.
Failing that, I guess we
could get some live traps put them out and trap the thing and then try to
relocate it. At which point I will, obviously, take the day off work, drive to
St. Louis and deposit the possum in Eric’s garage. Partially because you have
to take them pretty far away if you don’t want them to come back. And partially
because I really want to give Eric useless advice when he calls.
The long and the short
of it is that the possum won the first battle but I fully intend to win the war. I’ll keep you all posted!
