SUNDAY
9 November 2008
Today, Yvonne and Ed left for Tahoe for a week. Before they left, Ed asked if I’d help them with a possum ’issue.’ See, they have a little kitty-condo in the backyard for their outdoor cat Alpha, and this morning Ed discovered a possum had taken up residence inside of it. Apparently, he couldn’t get the thing out by banging on the exterior of the box or poking the creature with a stick. Lazy bastard. The possum, not Ed.
Being a city boy, the possums I usually see have tire tracks across them. I wanted to see the thing for myself, thinking I’d see something like this. What I saw instead was lazy blob of fur… smelly, lethargic and it really could not have cared less that I was present. He barely moved. ”There’s a reason they call it ‘playing possum,’” Ed said. Oh yeah. Right.
So… my charge was to blockade the entryway once the possum was out of there. Even though Alpha wouldn’t be able to use the condo for a while either, Ed wanted to send the possum the message that it was not to get used to the idea of living in there either. I checked before I left to walk Tinks. The thing was still there. Got back home in the afternoon? Still there. Early evening. Still there. Dang. I thought, “Maybe it really IS dead.” I threw some crab-apples from the ground at the kitty-condo’s plywood siding. Nothing. I shook the post. Nothing. Dang. I went online to see if I could learn of any food items that might coax the possum out. No such luck.
FINALLY, at about 11 o’clock, I thought I’d look again. I searched the garage for a flashlight, and found one that Ed must’ve bought at an X-Files fan expo. Seriously, I turned it on and there was a hum like a nuclear reactor had just been activated. I wasn’t prepared for the .44 Magnum-like kickback. Anyway, it turns out the lazy-ass possum had left, so I found a board to cover the entryway, but needed something to secure the board, because according to Ed, ‘those bastards are damn crafty.’ I went back into the house en route to the garage again, and the back door had closed. Thankfully, I knew were Ed and Yvonne hid the spare key, so I went for it… and it wasn’t there. Oh SNAP. Locked out of the house, no phone to call anyone, 11 o’clock at night and the spare keys were gone. Son of a bitch!
I knew Ed and Yvonne were having a neighbor girl watch after feeding Alpha and collecting their mail, and figured she must have the spare keys. Dang… but where did she live… fart if I know. What could I do but go knocking on doors? “Hi, I know you’ve never seen me before, but do you have the keys to that house over there? Could I have them? Thanks.” Yes, this was going to go well…
LUCKILY, my acute sense of observation had seen Shanna (the neighbor girl) walking across the street after meeting with Ed to discuss the particulars of cat feeding, and I lucked out. Thankfully the family was still awake and I regained passage into the house. I’m not really sure where I would have gone or what I would have done. What’re the odds I’d lock myself out of the house the first night Yvonne and Ed are gone, and the spare key is with the girl across the street. So lame.
So back in the house and back in the garage, I searched for something to secure this board to the kitty-condo. Bungee cords, twine, electric tape… whatever. I found some thick string on the back of a shelf. As I pulled it off, there was a workbench avalanche of assorted tape rolls and hacksaws. I’m not kidding: FALLING HACKSAWS! Hope I’m current on my tetanus shots.
Back at the condo… I was never a boy scout or anything, so it’s not like I have tremendous skills in knot-tying, but I think I managed to shore things up pretty well. I feel bad for Alpha, though. He’s gonna be homeless for the next week! Poor little guy… and he won’t come in the house either…
So… mission accomplished for today.
