Last night, just as my eyes started to drift away from the page I was trying to read and the man of the house was easing into sleep, an elephant leapt onto the verandah roof and clomped past the bedroom window in hobnailed boots. ‘What the !!!’ I looked out the window – nothing. Did I dream it? And then I heard it again. Sounded like it was downstairs on the deck now. The man of the house and I looked at each other. ‘Sounds like the goat’s got off.’ A quick check downstairs and, no the goat is still tied up. Then we saw the culprit run across the verandah roof to the back of the house.
It wasn’t an elephant of course, only a possum and a pretty small one at that, but what a racket! We haven’t seen a possum at home for ages; the pest control in the area does a pretty good job of keeping the numbers down but the odd one sneaks in through the gauntlet. All was quiet again so we went back to bed. ‘I’ll put a trap out in the morning,’ I said. In the meantime, the possum would no doubt do an early prune of the roses for me.
We should have closed the laundry door. The man of the house was getting ready for work in the morning and spotted the possum in the rafters of the laundry. This room has never been finished and the exposed rafters make an excellent place for a possum to sleep. It had spent a bit of time deciding on a good resting place and left it’s biological calling cards all over the outside loo and wash house. .
Do you have any idea how hard it is to shift a possum when it doesn’t want to go? The man of the house went to work and left the job to me. I used a variety of tools. The long handled window washer and Manuka pole only gave the possum an opportunity to display it’s acrobatic ability. It twirled around the rafter like a gymnast on the parallel bars. I was a bit worried about being so close to it too. I didn’t want it to jump on me and it obviously wasn’t finished with it’s morning toileting yet. I needed something longer and sturdier so rummaged through the building bits and pieces pile. I came up with a six foot long, two inch square piece of macrocarpa. Standing in the doorway, I could poke at the possum and urge it out the other door without fear of it landing or peeing on me. It didn’t like the attention and finally took the hint. A flying leap, legs outstretched launched it through the other door and it was last seen scooting through the garden in that comical old man run they have. Good riddance.