Playing Possum

First, let me say that I am aware I have been tagged by Ian for the book meme. The problem is that most of the books I read have more pictures than words and contain the phrase "Good Night." (i.e. Good Night, Moon; Good Night, Gorilla; Good Night, Blue; etc.) But, I am working on it for my weekend blog. I promise. Bear with me.

On to the wildlife living at my house (and I don't mean my children).

Last year about this time, we had an issue. I’m always freaky at night about people breaking into my house, so imagine my panic when I started hearing bumps in the night coming from somewhere in the house. It didn’t happen until after dark, so I was sure those burglars were trying to hide in the anonymity of nightfall!

For almost two weeks, I would hear this every night, and I couldn’t figure out where the bumps were coming from. I had searched the entire house – nothing. Then one weekend, Eli spotted something in the backyard. “Look at that big cat, mommy!” It was not a cat. It was a possum. (I know the correct word is opossum, but humor me.)

I despise possums! Everyone says they just play dead and won’t hurt you. Bullsh*t! People who say this have never been near a possum and heard the evil hissing they make before they look like they’re about to attack. The damn things are scary, and there was one in our back yard.

That same weekend, Eric and his dad spotted another one. They were looking out the sliding glass door in the back, and I heard, “What is that?!” Of course, they went outside to chase it. They’re nuts. The possum saw them coming, and darted across the yard, underneath the deck.

Now, we had two possums! The men were trying to reassure me that it was the same possum, but I had seen both, and one was noticeably bigger. That night, I heard the damn bumping again. This time it made sense. It sounded like it was coming from in the house because they were under the deck! For all I know, the little f*ckers were trying to burrow into the house.

The next day I researched possums on the Internet, and discovered that mating season is about eight months out of the year, and we were smack in the middle of it. Sweet Googly Moogly! There were possums f*cking underneath my deck! That really explained the bumping noises.

I called Animal Control. They laughed at me. They used words like “harmless” and phrases like “will disperse on their own” and “nothing we can do.” Apparently, they don’t catch the animals, but they will remove them if you catch them. As if I’m going to attempt a live possum trap!

I really had no other choice but to let the damn things be and pray that they didn’t spawn a litter of hundreds of baby possums. In a few weeks, the bumping subsided. I thought we were home free.

Last week, my husband was leaving for work. He was accosted by our neighbor. Apparently, she was up at 4:00 am (!) and was watching our house. (!!!!) Somehow, I don’t find that comforting. Anyway, she told Eric that she saw a possum scampering (yes scampering) underneath our front porch.

They’re back. This year, victory will be mine.