Thirty minutes ago an Opossum with a large open sore on its head sauntered into our kitchen. It walked right passed me as I was sitting at the computer; it turned the corner, leaning into the fridge as it passed. I started to yell,
“Dan there is an Opossum in our kitchen. An Opossum in our kitchen!”
At the sound of my slightly hysterical cries, the Opossum turned to look at me. Our eyes met, and it stood there for a few second before calmly turning around and waddling back out the way it came in. I followed it out of the kitchen and caught a glimpse of its wormy tail as it disappeared down the stairs in to the basement. I slammed the basement door and went to find Dan. He was sleeping. I flicked on the light.
“Dan, there was just a possum in the kitchen. It was acting like it had been there before!”
“Well, I am sure the cats would have gotten it if it had been.”
“What should I do? The litter boxes are downstairs, but I can’t keep the door open! The possum will come back. Do you think it has been visiting often? It had a sore on its head.”
“What, a sore?”
“Yeah. Isn’t that weird?
“Yeah.”
“What if it is rabid?”
“It’s not rabid.”
“Okay, I need back up while I go downstairs to get the litter boxes. Can you stand with the broomstick ready to beat it off if it jumps up on me and starts gnawing my leg?”
“It is not rabid.”
“You didn’t see it. I think it’s been here before. It just looked at me like it wasn’t scared. It is definitely rabid. And the sore on its head, like an abscess; gross!
Dan followed me into the kitchen and stood dutifully with the broomstick, ready to defend me against the R.O.U.S. as I tiptoed down the stairs and grabbed a litter box.
“We are never going to be able to leave the door open again.” I announce as I dropped the stinky litter box down into our pantry.
Since then I have scoured the house looking for evidence of a marsupial infestation. I closed up Bronwen's bedroom, but only after looking under the beds, in the closet and in the laundry basket.
Sometimes we forget how close we live to the rest of the natural world, until the natural world comes walking through our kitchen sporting a cheeky grin and an oozing head wound.
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12 comments:
Whoa! That's NOT normal behavior for a night-active, human-shy creature. I doubt that it has been in your house before. But something has caused it to be confused.
So I assume it is still in your basement?
Call the Animal Rescue people to come and get it. They will observe it for a few days and treat the wound before they release it to the woods somewhere (preferably not near your house).
I agree. Any animal deviating this far from natural behavior is really sick. Possibly, it's just feverish because of that infection, but I don't think that it's ever a good idea to rule out rabies. Not just by sight. Rabies specifically effects the behavior of animals, causing their caution to wane as their aggression waxes. As for diseases, rabies is as bad as they come, and there is nothing at all embarrassing about erring to the side of safety with it.
Call the wildlife people, and get it out of your house. Keep your cats away from it. If it tests positive for rabies, maybe they will name a new epizootic after you!
"Rodents of Unusual Size? I don't think they exis--aaaaaahhh!"
Epizootic, MR. C? I have to say that I am pretty impressed with that word and with you for knowing it. And now I know it too.
Update on the story: I called Greensboro Animal Control and they said, "We don't do basements." They recommended that I buy a trap, trap the oppossum and then call them. I will, however, have to move the filled trap to the frontyard in order for them to pick it up.
Why thanks, Greensboro animal jerks! Sorry Ellie. Just don't let the cats eat it and don't handle it--or it's trap--without wearing gloves. Remember, it's the saliva you're worried about. Just like werewolves.
Sounds like it's time to start Bronwen's varmint combat training--an important part of every Southern lady's education.
So true Kim. We'll start with the mice in the back yard, I'll get out the shot gun, and then move our way up to vicious rabies wielding marsupials! I have no doubt she would win though
for the record: I just crawled over every inch of that damn basement, and the only things alive down there were me and a bunch of frighteningly big spiders.
I guess the 'possum came, he saw, and he buggered off.
still - I vote we keep the basement door closed from now on!
placentals: 1
marsupials: 0
Ha! Dan for the win!
:)
Thanks honey, for doing that. Ick! Anyway, those stupid pest control people were trying to convince me that our basement would be overrun with little baby marsupials. Did you check if they were all hanging from their tails under the subflooring?
What a saga! Something tells me there's more to come. Hopefully, not a bad smell in about a week coming up through the floor vents.
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