More adventures with opossums, or, this is how marriage works

This morning started out like any other morning. I was half awake, in my pajamas, outside feeding the rabbits and chickens. And then my husband shouted from the garage door “There’s an opossum in the cat food!”

It was suddenly not an ordinary day, and I was very awake.

Turns out a very young opossum had gotten into our garage and into the cat food bag. The cat and dog food bags are stored in an aluminum trash can with a tight fitting lid, but it must not have been put on correctly last night. It happens; I’m just glad hubby looked into the bag before reaching in.

opossum in bag of cat food

Small opossum at the bottom of a bag of cat food

The ‘possum wasn’t going anywhere, so hubby went inside to put on something more substantial than pajamas. I got the pitchfork and decided to make sure THIS opossum never graduated to eating my chicken’s eggs – but hubby had other ideas.

“Do you really have to kill it?” he asked. “It’s little.”

“It will grow up and get the chicken eggs if I don’t” I replied.

“The other opossum never came back, did it?”

“Well, no.”

“I’m sure this one is scared enough and it’ll stay away too.”

I’m thinking “seriously? We own a farm and you want to let a predator live – on purpose?” But he really doesn’t ask for things very often, and I can’t even remember the last time he made a request concerning how I run the farm.

“I could carry the bag outside and tip it on its side, and the opossum will run away.”

“Fine.” I agreed. Fine. I’ll let a predator live at the request of my hubby. He doesn’t have a problem with butchering animals for food, so I know that’s not what’s going on here. If something about this situation is striking him as important to handle in a certain way, then my relationship with him is more important than preventing chicken eggs from disappearing. I think it’s odd, but I will respect it.

The only change I requested was saying: “Just dump the cat food out, too. The opossum pooped in the bag, so I’m not feeding it to my cats. It’s likely to have parasites.”

He agreed easily, with a smile, and carried the bag outside.

So I hope you enjoy these photos of a very young, and very free oppossum running away into the bushes. My hubby likes them, too. I’m still laughing inside about the whole situation, and happy to know that this kind of giving is what makes a marriage.

carrying the bag of food - containing the opossum - outside

Carrying the bag of food – containing the opossum – outside

The opossum, very startled at being dumped out of the bag

The opossum, very startled at being dumped out of the bag. He’s about 6 inches long, plus another 6 inches of tail.

the opossum!

The opossum!

Opossum leaving

Opossum: “Am I really free to leave?”

Opossum: "I'm freeeeeeeee!"

Opossum: “I’m freeeeeeeee!”

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2 comments on “More adventures with opossums, or, this is how marriage works

  1. Pingback: Today I Turned 38 Years Old … | Ish Ism

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