The Baby Possum

I got email feedbacks from folks who were wondering what the baby possum story was all about so I looked through my disks this morning and finally came across it. This was written about six months prior to the story I told about the close encounters with the owl, and eagle so it kind of goes along that same theme, best part is this really happened just like the other story (the animals really didn’t talk there though that part even though the rest was true, was just artistic freedom). But I ramble, so read this while I return to the one I’m working on now (since it’s raining and I don’t work in the rain) about when I met Frank Zappa’s half sister in a grocery store

There is a good reason God made babies to look the way they do. All soft, cute and cuddly (well… the majority of them) and I suppose that’s why I stopped the car to help another life that was in trouble last night. I was driving along a dark road in the country around 3:45 in the morning (as if that’s something new) when I noticed in the headlights this little form flopping around on the road. Stopping the car to investigate I saw in the headlights it was a baby possum. By the time I’d gotten out of the car and went over, him (or her) it was still. Fearing that it had died I examined the little creature by touching it carefully with a pen I had and found it was still breathing so I went back to the car to see what I could find. I opened the trunk and found a small box and got it out the trunk. Returning to the baby possum I gently picked it up (with winter gloves I put on) and placed it in the box.

A car must have hit it, but seeing no blood doesn’t mean something isn’t wrong or that it isn’t hurt. So in my Good Samaritan way I thought why not help the little creature out and take it to a vet in the morning in the hopes this tiny life could be saved. Now I’m no animal expert but I am aware wild animals carry things like rabies, fleas, ticks, lyme disease and god knows what else that could be lurking on them ready to strike one down with the latest version of some simian type plague so I kept the gloves on until the wee creature was secure and safe.

Many of you must be wondering what might possess someone like me to pick something like this up so early in the morning, is he deluded, insane, a well meaning tree hugger, or just an average Joe trying to do the right thing and perhaps it’s a bit of them all yet there I was back in the car and on my way to check on my people at 3:45 in the morning. I was rolling down the highway feeling pretty good about myself thinking I’m going to score me a couple of good karma points when I hear the little guy (or girl) stir in the box. Thinking that it can’t be so bad if it’s awake I figured just leave it alone, let it sleep and the doctor will have it all better in the morning when the office opens up, or when I take it over to Pedimont Wildlife rescue in Durham.

Now shortly after hearing the stirring inside the box I came to a customers house who was handicap and noticed that the carrier had forgotten to bring the paper up to this customers house, a nice very sweet 90 yr. old woman in a wheelchair with a O2 setup. All I could picture in my head was this poor old woman wheeling herself out to the driveway, which was more of an obstacle course for Monster Trucks than for cars, and again trying to do the right thing I stopped got out of the car and picked the paper up. I carried it over to the house and set it on the porch railing by her door so when she looked for it in the morning it would be within easy reach. The last thing I want on my conscience is some 90 yr. old O2 tank breathing wheel chair bound woman to be found in her driveway keeled over because she struggled to reach down to get her morning paper and fell over dead. Beside have you ever tried to sit in a wheel chair and pick something up in front of you, it’s a pain in the muffin if you haven’t and even if you have at best it’s a experience even a yoga master wouldn’t want to endure.

Completing the delivery I went back to the car, got in, started it up and began my travels down the roads again. Suddenly I felt a movement on my leg and thinking I might of gotten a tick on me from the baby possum I turned on the over head light to see if that was it since I had shorts on. Now imagine yourself in this situation while your going 60 miles an hour down a unlit country road because that’s where I was at the time basking in my newly found karmic goodness. Looking down at my leg to make sure it wasn’t a tick searching for a new lyme disease victim I didn’t see any ticks. What I did see though right now at my feet was one very pissed off baby possum and he began hissing at me while attempting to take a bite out of my leg by snapping at it.

If you ever wondered how some of those Hollywood stuntman do the tricks they do to make it look so easy, they put baby possums in the car with them because as this animal was doing its best trying to bite me as I was trying to get the car slowed down while removing my feet off the floor. It must have been at that point that the baby got the upper hand because he climbed up still hissing onto the seat I was standing on as I attempted to slow the car down and drive all at the same time while it was nipping at my sneakers. Freaking out that he (or she, I didn’t have time to turn it over and check) might bite me I stepped over onto the passenger seat as the car slowed enough to hold the wheel from there and fend the baby from hell off with the other which held a thin 3 page Monday paper to keep the possum at bay. To refresh the readers mind were speeding down the road doing 60, there’s no lights, no buildings, no convenience stores, and hardly any houses while trying to drive from a standing position in the passenger seat as a baby possum attempts to French kiss my leg with her (or his) teeth as I fend it off with a 3 page paper.

Why Oreo’s entered my mind at the point is beyond me and I suppose it was a defense mechanism to keep me from losing it as the ironic turn of events played out. I didn’t have Oreo’s though, nor milk to dunk them either, but I did have a gourmet brownie on the seat where I was. I’d planned on eating it later in the morning but baby must have smelled it and wanted some because he (or she) then tried to get me to leave the seat so it could get over to the brownie. Now crouched in a car on a seat trying to hold a baby possum back with a Monday paper isn’t the most effective way of animal control and management while standing in the passenger seat of a moving car but the car managed somehow to slow down enough to where I could open the door and get out.

After getting out of the car I ran along side it using the edge of the door to bring it to a stop and then opened the trunk to get a tire iron out so I could use it to move the possum, and hopefully reach inside and get the box out where I put the possum to begin with. The possum was way ahead of me and had gotten out of the way to crawl back down by the drivers side near the gas pedal to eat my $4.00 brownie and it didn’t appear to have any mind to save it’s rescuer any.

Now it was my turn to try and get a fully awake baby possum back into the box which is easier said than done. If you’ve ever seen a possum they normally don’t seem to be fast animals but this baby now hopped up on sugar from my gourmet brownie sure could move pretty fast because after I opened the door and tried to get him into the box he (or she) decided under the seat was the best place to avoid such an capture. So blocking the front of the seat with papers and the rear opening of the seat with papers I got the gloves back out of the car and put them on along with a heavy sweater I still had in there. I figured this would be a better line of defense than bare skinned arm for its teeth if it should try to take another bite out of me. I got back out of the car and got the tire iron to move him with as I heard the baby trying to eat his (or her) way through the seat, apparently baby possums don’t like to be confined under car seats.

Coming back around to the front armed with my tire iron, winter gloves, sweater, a flashlight, and a box inside I felt comfortable could handle the task I figured I’ll get him out this time since I remembered hearing something once about these animals falling asleep when they are scared (frankly I was feeling pretty woozy myself). We’ll if anyone ever says babies are timid send them my way so I can correct them because this baby was anything but timid in fact aggressive comes to mind if anything does. There was no falling asleep for this little guy he was wide awake and doing as much damage to the bottom of my car seat as his teeth could handle and the tire iron that I thought would be a brilliant tool for this purpose was about a foot too long in that confined space. Yet after about a half and hour of trying to corral the little creature into the box I gave up and called the office to tell them I’d be late. While I was on the phone telling them the story you’re reading here really was true and assuring them it wasn’t some elaborate excuse for wasting time to goof off the baby finally came out and went right into the box that was lying on it's side. I took the tire iron and tipped the box up, found the lid and added it to the box while the baby hissed and champed it’s teeth at me trying to climb out. Not chancing another stunt drive down the road I got the spare out of the back placed the box in the hole and weighed it down with the tire as I closed the lid.

Climbing back into the car I sat directly in baby possum poo that I guess was a thank-you for picking him (or her) up to begin with. I started the car back up and drove back to where I found it and pulled over. All the way back as I was headed there I could hear it eating at the cardboard to get loose again and this was through the trunk so I know it was really mad by now. With gloves, tire iron, sweater guard, winter gloves I found the spot and stopped the car. I went around to the back and opened the trunk. Lifting the tire I saw the baby possum had chewed a hole into the side of the box and his head was sticking out of it hissing. So like some Chinese plate twirler or a member of the Cirque du Soleil, I managed to lift the box out of the trunk by balancing it on the tire iron and keeping it steady with a tap now and again with my hand. I placed it on the ground and tipped it over to watch one little baby possum disappear from the side and emerge its head and body out of the box to back off into the weeds toward the woods. After I could see he (or she) was going to be ok I headed home to unwind. Today has been more than I needed so I decided to take the rest of the day off to wash my pants, clean up the frosting mess from the brownie, and the gift my little friend left on the front seat. Thinking about the experience and the crap I go through day to day just to see these papers are circulated properly I really need to find a new job because this is beyond normal. Maybe I should quit and start my own company delivering baby possums; after all I do have experience.