NOT Playing Dead, For Once

And apparently, I never posted about this sad little 'possum, either. The other night, around 0300, I went out to make a Wal-Mart run. I had run out of printer ink and needed it pronto. On the way out of the neighborhood, I came upon this sad creature, stuck in a deep puddle in the middle of the road, which had flooded from the many days of rain we'd had recently.

Of course, I couldn't just leave him there to die. I pulled up right next him, and he just stared pitifully at me.  Like 'em or not, opossa are God's creatures, too, and therefore meant to be protected. Unlike mosquitoes and houseflies, which of course are the Devil's spawn...

Three police cars drove by me while I sat there and debated with myself about what to do. Rather than think for just a minute about why three police cars would be passing me at 3 in the morning, I tried hailing each of them down for help. Finally, the third one stopped and the copper stuck his head out and yelled, "Call animal control!" I started to ask him about that, but he just shot back, "Sorry, I'm on my way to a priority call!" and took off. Oops. Silly me, thinking this half-dead rat would take precedence over yet another who-knows-what around the corner from me. (Kinda wish I knew. I do live here.)

I tried to wake up Rob, but he was passed out, and Animal Control wasn't open until 0600, according to their answering machine. I called the emergency vet's office, where we took our late bunny, Bounce, and they gave me a number where someone actually responded. They said they'd send someone right out.

Nearly an hour later, when I returned from Wal-Mart, Mr. Poss was still doing the death stare in the middle of the road. Stupid Animal Control. Bah. Time to take matters into my own hands.

And by that, I meant waking up the hus-beast. Did you think I was actually going to do it myself? Well, it's true, I would have, but I had nothing to at least scoot him off to the side of the road with.  I had a couple pieces of paper with me, and that's it.

Rob wasn't thrilled to be woken up at that hour about a dying 'possum, but he took one look at my face and knew I wasn't going to let it go. So he went out to rummage around in the shed for something to help the possy with, and I drove back to the scene of the crime to protect my new burden.

Some guy walked out of his house and came over to see what the heck I was doing. He stood there for about five minutes before he finally said, "Oh, it's a 'possum! I was wondering what the hell that was!"

The Bob eventually came down with a pitchfork and the kitty carrier he'd rescued a couple weeks earlier from the side of the road. He told me the poss started for him, but I don't think so. He hadn't moved, except maybe a little drifting around in the flood, for an hour and a half now. He surely couldn't be sitting there for the fun of it, could he?

So we argued a bit over who would take the creature to the side of the road. I wanted to do it, but he wouldn't let me. Eventually, I just sat in the van and waited while he did whatever he did. Next thng I know, he's opening the side door and sticking the cat kennel in.

With the 'possum in it.

Um. Excuse me? I do not think so. No bloody, wild animal (unless it's a duck or something cute) is going to be sitting, getting funky up in my brandy-new Odyssey - kennel or not!

So I made him take it out. I mean, I didn't want him to get hit by a car (again), but there are limits, people!

He ended up taking him to the side of someone's house and dumping him out of the kennel. When he returned with the kennel, I told him he was out of his mind for thinking I would ever let him use it again for an actual pet of ours.

Crazy!

And we went home.

Where we had ourselves a good, hearty laugh about the idea of leaving him on the side of the road, in the kennel, with a sign that read, "Free kitten." Imagine someone's reaction when they reached in there... "What the HELL?!!"

Good times.

Fin.