Possumly the Cutest Vermin Ever

We have a possum. It comes into the yard near dawn a few days a week, looks around the yard for things to eat, climbs the tree near the fence, then walks along the back fence to return to the woods. I don’t leave food out for it, and I am very wary of it. After all, possums are mean, and this one is unafraid of people, as proven by the time I encountered it outside, and it sauntered away, unconcerned. It’s as big as a cat, the biggest possum I’ve ever seen. Part of me disliked it, but it’s also an impressive bit of wildlife simply due to its size, and the kids are always pleased to be able to watch it from the windows.

A couple of weeks ago the possum seemed abnormally fat and clumsy. Today, my husband woke me up to see why: she had babies! And baby possums are, like every other baby in the world, adorable. They clung wide-eyed to mama’s back, hanging on for dear life as she lumbered along the top of the fence. The chickens were not pleased, and raised the alarm with a cacophony of bawk-bawk-bawk-bawk-baGOCK! Miraculously, this did not wake the children.

So that goes to show that even when I don’t particularly like an animal, I can appreciate its place in our lives and smile when I see it doing well. I ought to give the possum a name … Any ideas?


  1. Josh J said,

    April 12, 2010 at 5:51 pm

    Lilith. And possums aren’t that mean, just incredibly diseased ridden. I’ve stepped on one before in the dark and he/she just hissed at me. They pretty much just hiss and roll over. Racoons are much meaner.

    My sister (the vet) tried to save a baby possum once by taking care of him. Although abandoned by his mother he fought for life viciously. Drea named him Hernando.

    Me: “Drea, he’s the ugliest baby mammal I’ve ever seen”

    Sister: “I bet his mother thought he was beautiful…”

    We both looked at the little baby possum for a moment, very thoughtfully.

    Sister: “Then again, maybe not.”

  2. Donna said,

    May 22, 2010 at 7:18 am

    There was a possum that would come into my parents’ yard to eat the food she would feed the dogs. Then he got brave enough to come onto the porch and eat. She called him Moocher.


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