Of Possums and People Bill Tune bctune@gmail.com Nightmare revisited. (Note: Term “nightmare” is used very loosely here.) It started one morning with a noticeable change in the karma of my garage. I think it was a Wednesday. Something was different---not the way I left it the night before. In my naiveté, I initially surmised that we had accidentally trapped a stray cat in the garage overnight. It could happen. The next morning I found more evidence of an overnight “guest.” Maybe we accidentally trapped that cat again?---much less likely. I was suddenly haunted by a sense of déjà vu. Was I the reluctant host to a---pause for dramatic effect---a possum---again? (For background info on my previous encounter, read my November 2012 essay, “The Possum.”) After the third consecutive morning of finding evidence of an intruder, I was convinced the said offender was a possum. Unfortunately, I matched wits with a possum last October, and it ended in a draw. I rented a trap and had a plan to take him to the country. He wouldn’t take the bait, but he did leave the garage. No more problems---until now. Assuming that he wouldn’t come to my trap, my only other option was to go to him, but that was a daunting thought. I have a double garage. Half of it houses a car; the other half is strictly storage. Somewhere amid the many boxes and tubs and miscellaneous garage stuff, the critter had made a home. The only way to find him would be to take apart the storage half of my garage, and I really didn’t want to do that. However, on Sunday afternoon I surprised myself by deciding that I was ready to tackle this project. After all, I didn’t want my uninvited guest’s stay to be any longer than absolutely necessary, and my storage area needed cleaning anyway. Beverly was at a meeting at the church, leaving the car half of the garage vacant; so I began the arduous, but orderly task of moving items from the storage half. With each freshly exposed layer, anticipation grew. Was my original theory correct? What would I find behind the next box? Could I soon be the victim of a rabid possum who would jump out and chew off my right ear?? Then it happened. I carefully slid the Christmas tree box away from its position, and there he was, nestled in a 12” square space conveniently left between odd-shaped boxes – the possum! My initial reaction was a mixture of joy and vindication. Success! I was right! This jubilation quickly gave way to concern. I really should have had a plan for what to do when I found him. Fortunately, he had no desire to go anywhere, which gave me time to take pictures and formulate a plan for humane disposal. I found a large plastic tub with a lid, but I knew getting the possum in the tub would not be easy. I am very fond of all ten digits on my hands, so I began looking for a tool with which to affect the transfer of location. I found a short-handle spade in my gardening supplies, and with a bit of poking and prodding the possum was “tubbed!” Without the worry of his pending escape, or worse yet, his retreat deeper into my garage, I was able to remember my plan from last October to dispose of possum #1 in the country. (I do not think this is the same possum, but I cannot be sure. They pretty much all share the same amount of ugly.) My next task was to get this critter to the country. I started to put the tub in the back of my new RAV4, but thought better of it when visions of a tipped-over tub with an escaped possum popped into my head. I had only loosely secured the lid. I was not too worried about having enough oxygen for my overgrown rat, but without air holes I hesitated to tighten the lid any further. However, I didn’t want to take any chance of an escaped possum in my vehicle! [Insert shudder here.] The obvious solution was to put the tub in the back seat and use the seatbelt to prevent tippage. The trip to the country was uneventful. At the predetermined release point, I removed the lid and lay the tub on the ground. Of course, the possum did nothing, so I turned the tub upside down. When he hit the ground he immediately ran for the bushes, and I was barely able to get a picture of his tail disappearing into the tall grass. Once I returned home and regaled the ladies with my adventure, it was back to the garage to sweep and repack my stuff. I made sure not to leave any 12” square spaces between boxes. While this does not guarantee an absence of future “guests,” I hope it will discourage the next critter from setting up camp in my garage. If not, a neighbor recommended a product called Critter Be Gone available at Lowe’s and/or Home Depot. My garage is now critter-free and clean! Now I can sleep better. Sweet dreams. enough

Of Possums and People

Nightmare revisited. (Note: Term “nightmare” is used very loosely here.) It started one morning with a noticeable change in the karma of my garage. I think it was a Wednesday. Something was different---not the way I left it the night before. In my naiveté, I initially surmised that we had accidentally trapped a stray cat in the garage overnight. It could happen. The next morning I found more evidence of an overnight “guest.” Maybe we accidentally trapped that cat again?---much less likely. I was suddenly haunted by a sense of déjà vu. Was I the reluctant host to a---pause for dramatic effect---a possum---again? (For background info on my previous encounter, read my November 2012 essay, “The Possum.”) After the third consecutive morning of finding evidence of an intruder, I was convinced the said offender was a possum. Unfortunately, I matched wits with a possum last October, and it ended in a draw. I rented a trap and had a plan to take him to the country. He wouldn’t take the bait, but he did leave the garage. No more problems---until now.

Assuming that he wouldn’t come to my trap, my only other option was to go to him, but that was a daunting thought. I have a double garage. Half of it houses a car; the other half is strictly storage. Somewhere amid the many boxes and tubs and miscellaneous garage stuff, the critter had made a home. The only way to find him would be to take apart the storage half of my garage, and I really didn’t want to do that. However, on Sunday afternoon I surprised myself by deciding that I was ready to tackle this project. After all, I didn’t want my uninvited guest’s stay to be any longer than absolutely necessary, and my storage area needed cleaning anyway.

Beverly was at a meeting at the church, leaving the car half of the garage vacant; so I began the arduous, but orderly task of moving items from the storage half. With each freshly exposed layer, anticipation grew. Was my

original theory correct? What would I find behind the next box? Could I soon be the victim of a rabid possum who would jump out and chew off my right ear?? Then it happened. I carefully slid the Christmas tree box away from its position, and there he was, nestled in a 12” square space conveniently left between odd-shaped boxes – the possum! My initial reaction was a mixture of joy and vindication. Success! I was right! This jubilation quickly gave way to concern. I really should have had a plan for what to do when I found him. Fortunately, he had no desire to go anywhere, which gave me time to take pictures and formulate a plan for humane disposal. I found a large plastic tub with a lid, but I knew getting the possum in the tub would not be easy. I am very fond of all ten digits on my hands, so I began looking for a tool with which to affect the transfer of location. I found a short-handle spade in my gardening supplies, and with a bit of poking and prodding the possum was “tubbed!” Without the worry of his pending escape, or worse yet, his retreat deeper into my garage, I was able to remember my plan from last October to dispose of possum #1 in the country. (I do not think this is the same possum, but I cannot be sure. They pretty much all share the same amount of ugly.)

My next task was to get this critter to the country. I started to put the tub in the back of my new RAV4, but thought better of it when visions of a tipped-over tub with an escaped possum popped into my head. I had only loosely secured the lid. I was not too worried about having enough oxygen for my overgrown rat, but without air holes I hesitated to tighten the lid any further. However, I didn’t want to take any chance of an escaped possum in my vehicle! [Insert shudder here.] The obvious solution was to put the tub in the back seat and use the seatbelt to prevent tippage. The trip to the country was uneventful. At the predetermined release point, I removed the lid and lay the tub on the ground. Of course, the possum did nothing, so I turned the tub upside down. When he hit the ground he immediately ran for the bushes, and I was barely able to get a picture of his tail disappearing into the tall grass.

Once I returned home and regaled the ladies with my adventure, it was back to the garage to sweep and repack my stuff. I made sure not to leave any 12” square spaces between boxes. While this does not guarantee an absence of future “guests,” I hope it will discourage the next critter from setting up camp in my garage. If not, a neighbor recommended a product called Critter Be Gone available at Lowe’s and/or Home Depot.

My garage is now critter-free and clean! Now I can sleep better. Sweet dreams.

enough

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