Dear Diary, Love, Mom


Dear Diary,

I might be getting to old for these neighborhood patrol duties. The other day, I had to rescue the dadgum possum in the back yard – again. This was the second possum rescue in two months. (At least this one was in the afternoon and not at 5:30 a.m.)

I was alerted by my neighborhood patrol colleagues that there was an intruder in the back yard. Why the possum chose to take a stroll across the yard in the middle of the afternoon, I have no idea.

Jack and Arya had the possum surrounded on the path and were barking to wake the napping. Jack was creeping closer and closer — and my calls for them to come to me were totally ignored.

The possum was not playing dead — she had her head up and was showing her teeth. I could just imagine her biting one of them. So I came up behind Jack and grabbed him by the tail. I pulled him to me, picked him up, and hightailed it for the back yard gate. Once the two canines were with me on the house side of the gate, I closed it so the possum could continue wherever she was going.

Someone told me later that possums eat lots and lots of ticks. If so, I’m grateful to her. But I don’t want any more possum rescues. Please, Ms. Possum. Stay out of the back yard. And please, Jack and Arya, no more possum hunting!