Not so lazy Sunday

Somebody needs to let Pixie out to go potty in the morning and more often than not, it's me on the weekends. Half the time, I get right back in bed. On Sunday morning, I did not get to get back in bed. Instead, Pixie shot out the door to the back corner of our fence barking like mad. And I realized there's a very large furball on my fence. Definitely not a squirrel.

I'm relatively blind in my natural state without the aid of contacts or glasses. So I wonder closer to get a better look and find there's an opossum on my fence.

Yes that's an o-possum. Possums don't live in North America even though many people mistakenly refer to the opossum as the possum. I know this because, you see, opossums and I go way back. One summer in college, I was taking a summer class and doing some research at the same time. I spent a lot of time down in the basement of Taylor Hall. One day, an opossum comes sauntering into my office, catching me by surprise. My audible gasp managed to scare the living bejeezus out of it, and it promptly turned tail and ran waddled away. I eventually managed to trap it in a corner using a collection of chairs and couches while I went to find some maintenance personnel to move it back outdoors.

Pixie and I are at the back fence and she is very infuriated at this point, standing up on two hind legs crying her shrill, "Let me at 'em! Let me at 'em!" I was rather amused and a little embarrassed she might wake up the neighbors. It takes a few attempts to call her off and get her back inside. I rally Travis outside to check things out.

Pixie was inside the house watching me from the sliding door with Travis. As I walked towards the opossum with a stick, she became rather concerned and started shaking, whining and just losing it in general. The opossum, possibly also living-bejeezus-less with fear, utterly refused to move even as I poked its tail with my stick.

Travis came out to take a few pictures and participate in the amusement of finding an opossum.

Travis: "So why do you think we find opossums so ugly."
Me: "The naked tail. And general likeness of a blown-up-rat."

I'm happy to report it recovered from its temporary paralysis-of-fear and waddled away some 10 minutes after we all went back inside. Pixie has not completely recovered. She was still barking a little towards the back fence this morning in indignation though there was nothing up there.