Oh me-o my-o.
I left him playing dead in the trap at 6:30.
Mrs. P assures me he was PDT at 7:00 when she left.
He was gone when I got home however. Perhaps the squirrel told him it was safe.
I have it on a very good source that armadillos carry leprosy.
Funny possum story: my dad bought a stuffed possum. It’s stanced on four legs, looking up and looking mean. When he was taking it home in his carryon luggage, the security lady at the X-ray machine insisted on opening the bag, and upon doing so, screamed bloody murder. I miss that possum.
When I was trapping feral cats for a living, I caught many, many possums. They all wanted me to admire their dental work. Trapped a few raccoons, too. I prefer raccoons - they’re prettier. I can’t think of anything uglier than a possum.
Two 'possums?
Two 'possums fornicating?
My best friend has had a possum living in her basement for months; they theorize it stumbled through a window as a baby and has never been able to get out. Attempts to capture it have been unsuccessful, and it’s really not causing any problems down there, other than occasionally giving my friend a heart attack when she opens the basement door to toss some laundry down and it’s sitting on the steps grinning at her.
On a totally unrelated note, I remember reading a poem about armadillos when I was a kid. It was about how you shouldn’t use an armadillo for a pillow, because it will eat your arms off. Ring a bell for anyone?
How about giant-possum-with-ugly-possum-babies-clinging-to-it? Because that is some ugly shit there. Little baby fangs, even.
So it was the summer of 1988. I was in the shop changing the headlight on a 740 Volvo.
Kent the guy that worked on the rack next to me pulls in with a 240 Volvo.
Now before I go on a word about Kent. This man had the worst luck of any person I have ever met. He had his very own black could that rained on just him. Things like test driving a car with the window down, and having a sliver of metal fly in the window and land in his eye. :eek: You get the idea.
So Kent pulls in and gets out of the car. For whatever reason he had decided that he needed to check the oil on this car first. Standing by the left front wheel, he reaches around to the front of the hood, disengages the secondary catch, and flips the hood up. He reaches in.
I hear a scream and look up. Kent is backstroking over the top of the 740 I am working on. WTF?? 
When we finally get him settled down, he says look in the engine compartment.
There is a live possum in the left rear corner of the engine room. When ever anyone reached in he would bare his teeth and make like he was going to lunge and bite. :eek:
It took a while but we finally threw a blanket over it and got it into a box. We did a release at a local park.