Possum (or Opossum) in the House

No, that’s not a metaphor.

Last night my mom’s German Shepherd brought a juvenile possum into the house. It had been injured by the neighbor’s dog, so our heroic dog brought it inside and left it in the middle of the kitchen so that we could help it. At least, that’s what I think he wanted us to do. He had no interest in it upon depositing it on the floor.

Mom called me to come help, but by the time I arrived the possum had scampered off.  In the house.  When I asked her why she didn’t put a box over it while it was playing possum, a blank look came over her face as if that never occurred to her.

So there are about a dozen different ways the possum could have gone and we had no idea how far he got.  We couldn’t let the dog back inside for fear of scaring the poor thing, so I enlisted the help of the cat, who upon receiving his mission, promptly led me to the front door.  Upon closer inspection, the possum had hidden underneath a chair in the entry way.

I put the possum in a box, rewarded my genius cat for being awesome, and delivered the possum to a wildlife shelter that could help him recuperate from his ordeal.

Crazy night, indeed.

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