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beautiful pink lava erupting in this dreamstate horizon
2006-09-15 15:06

Last night after I was finished paying some bills and watching a really cool seminar about using GarageBand, I figured it was time for bed. Hummmmmm, about 3:30 in the morning if my memory serves me right...

Scrappy and Juliette were sleeping on either side of me on the pillow wall (a pile of pillows in our living room in lieu of a couch) when a peculiar scratching sound began. It emanated from the "Den of Iniquity", Bob's rehearsal space and stash for an unbelievable pile of accumulated debris.

The sound penetrated the pet's blissful sleep. Juliette pricked up her ears. Next thing, I hear Iggi yowling in the den. Scrappy, sitting at attention, stares at the den door. I figure Iggi brought in a rodent though the "Kitty Window" to consume in his latest "Corner of Death", which happens to be in the den these days.

The scratching sound had a different meaning to Scrappy. In high gear, moving at the Speed of Dog, he flew into the den and began barking. He kept barking long enough to awaken Bob.

"What's going on", he says.

"I dunno, I think Iggi brought something in", I say.

Bob looks in the den and says something about Iggi sitting on the "Cat Balcony". The Cat Balcony is a widened windowsill thingy which functions as a landing pad for the Kitty Window's 4 by 4 "Cat Ladder". The lumber leans against the house so the cats can climb up. Often the cats will sit around on their balcony to take in the view.

Iggi would not be sitting on the Cat Balcony if he had prey. Scrappy continued barking at Something in the Den of Iniquity, so Bob got a flashlight. Within a few short moments he yells, "There's an opossum in the den!"

That is my cue. I go to the kitchen for my gardening gloves. When opossums are in the house it is because Iggi caught a young one thinking it is a rat. When the opossum does it's opossum thing, playing dead, Iggi gets turned off and abandons it. The "not rat" scampers to a good hiding place. Then me, wearing the gloves, picks the cute little thing up and releases it outside.

On my hands and knees, wearing the gloves, I approach the place Scrappy is barking at. There, huddled in the corner, behind a subwoofer and a plethora of wires, is an adult opossum! It was as big as one of the cats! WOW.

This opossum must have climbed up the cat ladder, onto the cat balcony, and through the kitty window on it's own. No wonder Scrap was going crazy, Iggi yowled his signature caterwaul, and Bob was freaking out.

It was so big I thought twice about scooping it up wearing my gloves. I moved ahead anyway. Bob hates these intimate encounters with nature. I wanted to grab this possum with 2 hands- but things had to be moved first to do that.

Moving the things compelled the possum to move too. Scrappy lunged towards the possum sending it along the wall, under the window to the other side of the room, and behind a HUGE pile of Bob's stuff.

That was the end of round one. Score: Possum 1, People 0.

That pile is easily 8 feet tall, 5 feet deep, and 6 feet long. There is no way to shuffle it around the room without making another place for the opossum to hide. I'll wait until the critter comes out of there looking for something to eat. When it does it will be easier to corner, catch, and release.

When the guys come over tonight and crank up the amps and guitars for rehearsal, that opossum will think Scrappy and I are the lesser of two opossum evils.