Lionhearted Bruce

   I saw this great Scottish terrier logo in a magazine, and sent it to Madeline and Diane.

   Based on recent events, Diane said that she thought Bruce would prefer to have a possum in his mouth then keys. Bruce cornered a possum in their backyard recently, and he received some scratches on his nose So of course I had to draw this…

The Possum's Paw

   This morning I went downstairs to let the dogs out, and noticed something sitting on the rug—just a couple of feet from the door. I stepped closer, then immediately recoiled from the pungent odor. Someone left a desiccated foot on my deck! At first I wasn't sure whose foot it was, but upon looking closer at the appearance of the toes and claws, decided it must be from a possum. (This was later confirmed when I found a patch of black, dried skin with telltale-colored hair on it. Taylor had found it first, and rolled on it. Are you shivering from sheer grossness? Good. Me too.)

   The paw reminded me of that short story "The Monkey's Paw" by W.W. Jacobs—so I made sure not to make any wishes on it. It's funny how a surprise event can trigger a distant memory. (There are plenty of useful things I can't seem to remember... but old short stories I read in middle school? No problem.)

"It's just an ordinary little paw, dried to a mummy."

   The moral to the story is "Be careful what you wish for, you may receive it"; in other words, our lives are ruled by fate, and there is a penalty to be paid for trying to overcome it. I'll definitely be careful about what I wish for after this not-so-subtle reminder!

The PW

Foreshadowing

   Last night I went out for my run, and over by Strang Park I was stopped in my tracks by an overwhelming, horrible smell. I knew it was the smell of death. I turned to see a very large, very dead possum on the side of the road in a serious state of decay. It instantly reminded me of the demons overtaking the giant boar in Princess Mononoke. I shuddered and kept running, but of course couldn't help thinking of my little possum at home.
   I came home and fed him again, and he seemed okay, though a little quieter than he has been, and he wanted to go right back into his makeshift pouch, the inner pocket of my fleece jacket. When I took him out for his late night feeding, he was even more sluggish but did eat a little. I could see the writing on the wall.
   So I wasn't terribly surprised that my furry lil' mascot didn't make it through the night. I suppose his injuries were just too great. It makes me sad; I knew his paralysis was a huge concern, but he seemed to be rallying, so I had hope. Prey animals are hard to keep because they will hide their pain and injuries at all costs.
   If his story and photos convinced even one person to look at possums as more than a nuisance than he fulfilled an important purpose. I buried him in the side yard under the lilies of the valley, covered his site with azalea blossoms, and will keep fond memories.

Fun with Possums

If you love possums, scream real loud!

    Terry posted a question on my Facebook page tonight: "I wonder if Darwin is posting his adventure on PossumBook?" So I did a little surfing and... voila!

   My buddy John S said, "Some night in the future, you will hear a noise coming from your garbage cans outside, and you'll pick up a broom to investigate, and find a giant possum digging through your trash, and as you raise the broom to whack him away you two will lock eyes and have a mother and child reunion. Cue the Simon & Garfunkel song."

Awesome cartoon by Gary Pratt

Just so you know....

   Possums aren't the only ones good at playing possum.

   Darwin seems to be doing okay so far, inasmuch as he is lively and eager for meals. But he's still dragging his back legs, which makes me worry that he may be paralyzed permanently. Time will tell, but he's getting the best shot at life—I'm making sure of it!

   The dogs are living up to their reputation as hunters and are driving me bonkers. They know that there's an animal in the house and are determined to find him. They're jumping all over me, sniffing and searching frantically, and whining, all the while with eyes 3x their normal size, giant goofy grins, and tongues hanging to the ground. If it weren't so hot I'd keep him in the garage, but he's comfortable wrapped in a fleece jacket in a small kennel... as long as it's out of reach of certain nosy Shibas!

We can has possum... pleeeeeeese?!!?

We help you eet possum?

Darwin, Ready for his Close-Ups

   A few more photos of the little guy. Even Aki seems to be warming up to him.... though I'd never leave them alone together!

The Jig is Up: Aki Catches Her Quarry

   Today started off like a normal weekday; I woke up and went downstairs to feed the dogs and let them out. Then I came back upstairs to shower. But as soon as I turned off the water, I could hear the dogs barking frantically. "Awesome—at 6:30. My neighbors are going to shoot me!" I thought. I threw on my robe and raced downstairs, expecting them to be playing together.
   Looking out in the backyard, I could see that Taylor was circling a lifeless gray body—and Aki had her jaws around it! I yelled "DROP IT!!!" and ran outside. Fortunately, Aki dropped it.

Looks pretty dead, doesn't she?

    The possum had blood on her sides and appeared to be dead. My heart sank. But suddenly movement in the grass caught my eye. There were three small babies walking all over the place, distraught by their unresponsive mother, and no doubt by the obnoxious barking.

"Back off, or I'll bite!"

Taylor maintains a safe distance...

    I grabbed Taylor to shut him up and dragged him into the house. When I turned to go back for Aki, to my horror I saw that she had picked up Momma Possum again and shook her. When I yelled again, Aki complied, and I was able to drag her inside. She had blood on her chin and on her neck. I wasn't sure whose blood it was. I knew the mom was injured, but hoped it wasn't critically. She sure looked dead, but her skin was warm to the touch. I collected the babies and placed them on their mother and headed inside, hoping that if she were faking, she'd soon take off. I went back to preparing for work.

"Mom? Let's get out of here!!!"

    A few minutes later I heard the dogs whining excitedly, and got downstairs just in time to see Mom staggering off with one of the babies clinging to her back. She slid under the fence into the neighbors yard, so I ran out to check on the family. I hoped the second baby was also with her, because I couldn't find it. The third baby must have broken its back legs, because it was dragging them. It dragged itself under the fence in the direction mom fled, calling out to her with his tiny wheeze, but she knew he was hurt and had left him. Totally broke my heart.
   Since I had to go to work, I put the little orphan in a dog crate in the back of my car (ironically, a crate on loan from Midwest Shiba Inu Rescue... now Midwest Possum Rescue!) and parked in the Hallmark garage in a shady spot. I went out at lunchtime to check on him, and was shocked that he was still alive, but could tell he was getting dehydrated. I tried to get him to take some milk but needed an eyedropper.

He looks just like Remy from Ratatouille!

If you think he's not cute, you have a heart of stone.

    I told Laurie about my traumatic day during our staff, and she jokingly dubbed the baby "Darwin" since he seemed doomed to his fate, which I think is actually a cute and fitting name. So Darwin it is!
   After work I rushed back to the car and was relieved that Darwin was still alive. I stopped by CVS to get baby formula, chicken baby food, and eyedroppers and headed home to attend to my little patient. Wanting to ensure that he was safe, warm and secure, I've been carrying him in my own pouch of sorts—an inside pocket in my fleece jacket. He loves it.

   I feel like I should acknowledge that most people probably think I'm crazy for finding "vermin" like possums to be cute, let alone that I would go out of my way to save one. I wish more people would give them a chance. People say they are mean, that they hiss, that they have beady eyes, hairless toes and rat-tails. I say they aren't mean: they just try to intimidate anything they view as a threat. Their sound does sound like hissing, until you hear it from the babies. They communicate with each other and with their mothers in hushed whispers. I could hear urgency in his voice when Darwin knew Mom was leaving. Their eyes are dark but surprisingly warm and friendly. And their amazing toes and tail serve an important purpose. They have great dexterity and grip strength, and their tails are prehensile, so they can use them as another tool for climbing and hanging on. I'm not the only one who thinks they're cool.
   At the very least, you have to give them credit for playing dead so convincingly that they can fool a possum-killing dog and a human critter-sympathizer. But check this out: I took a short video and it wasn't until I reviewed it that I realize you can see Mom breathing!

The Return of the Possum

   I'm assuming I know what THIS means:

   The possum friend has returned from her winter vacation in some tropical climate and has taken up residence under my deck again. The possum sits there just under the deck, with her hair poking through the boards, and her beady little eyes glancing up to taunt my dog. Aki won't leave that spot. She's scratched all the stain off the deck in that corner. She won't go out in the yard to relieve herself. She doesn't want to eat. I have to drag her inside, and as soon as she's in, she's desperate to get back out. Sigh. Their persistence astounds me—both are too stubborn to leave!
   In case you need a refresher on my two-year Saga of the Opossum, check out my earlier posts:

Houseguest

Possum Watch 2010

Possum Watch 2010 Heightens

Sad Surprise

Possum Watch 2010 heightens

   Our possum resident has been very active this week, and it is DRIVING AKI CRAZY. She is trying to dig through the deck from every possible angle, to no avail (fortunately).

And frankly, she's ruining the deck!

   Taylor seems to think she's going to get in trouble, and prefers to watch from the safety of the great indoors:

Possum watch 2010

   The possums have been on vacation for the last couple of weeks (is it wrong for me to be jealous of them?), but returned to their home sweet home under my deck yesterday. The dogs have been obsessed ever since. They want to be outside ALL the time, and when it's time to come in I have to drag them inside by the scruff of their necks! 
   Maybe Mr. Raccoon stopped by last week to get the possums' mail & water their plants. In any case, I don't expect to see him back until he learns some sweet tanuki moves like the gang in Pom Poko. You can see the trailer here. It's a magical film by Hayao Miyazaki & Studio Ghibli featuring tanuki that band together to take back their homeland from humans. (Which reminds me, if I ever disappear, be sure to knock on the possums' door first.)

The film even has a wonderful nod to master artist Kuniyoshi!

Wildlife graveyard

   Apparently my yard is the place where wildlife comes to die. Tonight I returned home from work & took the dogs outside, only to find a baby squirrel in the middle of the yard. He was long gone, and, like the possum, had no signs of foul play. He was so cute, and it appeared that his eyes hadn't even opened yet. His tail, though scrawny, was a beautiful silver color. Perhaps he fell from too great a height from his nest in one of the nearby trees? I'm very curious about what is killing these animals, & hoping that it's "natural causes" such as the extreme heat, and not that someone in the neighborhood is poisoning them.
   I know that most people think of these guys as pests, but to me they're still little souls. I remember when I was a kid & Dad found a nest of 6 baby squirrels in a fallen tree. We kept them in an old rabbit hutch & fed them formula from an eyedropper until they were big enough to upgrade to fruits & veggies—like chunks of raw sweet potato. By then they were so frisky that when you opened the cage door, they would leap onto you & run laps around your body as if you were a tree. And when they finally saw their first tree & climbed it, they looked down at us, stunned, as if they couldn't figure out how to get back down again.

Rest in peace, lil' guy. And say hi to my possum for me!

A sad surprise

   Today I came home from work in a hurry to get to the Art Unleashed committee meeting. I let the dogs out & was prepared to throw the tennis ball for Aki, but she seemed to want to show me something. She looked at me, ran into the yard, turned & looked at me, ran a little further, looked at me... Ok, Lassie—I get it. What's up? She led me to a shady spot behind the spirea bushes, against the fence. As I approached I saw the body of our possum. I hoped that she was only playing possum, but she had in fact passed on. I kept the dogs away & went to get a shovel & a trash bag (and my camera—it's not often I get to see wildlife this close, so I took it as a learning opportunity). Poor little possum. I wonder what happened? I would feel horrible if the dogs had killed her, but she didn't have any obvious wounds, so it was impossible to tell. Possums get a bad rap. People say they're ugly & mean. I think they're remarkable, and the "meanness" is just an attempt to scare potential predators.  They're well-designed for a nocturnal life, with beady eyes, sensitive whiskers & large ears. Their dextrous toes, claws and sturdy prehensile tail help them navigate trees (and suburban backyard fences).

Much to my shock, as I lifted the body with my shovel, I saw something moving on its abdomen. It was a newborn baby possum who had fallen partially out of the pouch. It was weak but clearly alive. I reached down gently to see if I could remove it, but it was firmly attached inside the pouch. I peeked inside to find at least three more wriggling babies! The ones inside were especially lively.

I ran inside & called Operation Wildlife, which apparently closes at 5 pm. They wouldn't return until 10 am! I knew enough to know that I didn't have the knowledge to keep the babies alive for 17 hours. But I couldn't just toss them in the trash! What to do?? I called Mom & she recommended calling the local emergency vet. And sure enough, they said they'd take the babies until O.W. reopened. I put the whole body in a box & rushed them to the vet. I'm not sure what will happen to them, but my hope is that they can be saved. Because say what you will, I'm pretty sure there's nothing cuter than a baby possum!

Photo by mumto4ms

   Melancholy, I headed off to my meeting & shared the story with the HSGKC crowd, who were more sympathetic than a normal audience would have been. After the meeting, I met a friend for dinner at 75th Street Brewery and ordered a Possum Trot Brown Ale... but they were out. Bummer. Would have been a nice tribute to my little friend.

    My only other up-close experience with a possum was when I was about twelve years old. I was playing in the backyard down by the creek, and found a live possum stuck in the mud. A large tree limb had fallen on him during a storm, and had crushed his back legs. He was hissing like crazy with his mouth gaping open—it was definitely intimidating! I removed the limb and ran to the house to tell Mom & find out what to do. I don't actually remember what happened, but I distinctly remember having the same helpless feeling that I had today when I discovered the babies. Life can be rough sometimes, especially for animals in the wild. All I can do is be kind when I encounter them, and encourage others to do the same.

On a happier note, enjoy these videos of Hoppy the deer!