Possum in the Trap

We've had marauding armadillos, or maybe just one armadillo, in the flower beds and the yard. As hard as we have worked to get the area around the house into some sort of shape, it's disheartening to walk outside in the morning and see all the bedding plants you worked on your knees installing have been uprooted and in some cases eaten or killed. I know this is the country, and some of this kind of damage from wildlife goes with the territory. I also know that armadillos eat grubs and other bad insects, but we broke down and bought a Have-a-Heart trap, thinking we would trap some of these creatures and relocate them to some other place that's wilder than ours. We read up on bait to use to lure armadillos. They apparently like cat food, which we have in abundance. So we set the trap out front near the bed that has been the current favorite for them to destroy in the wee hours.

Well, we get up this morning, look out the front window to see if the trap has worked. Evidently, possums also like cat food. A big possum sat inside the trap looking wide-eyed back at us. My SO and the dog went out to inspect the catch. The possum growled at the dog when she went up to the cage. I'm not a lover of possums. Possums can be vicious, they have the most teeth of any other mammal in North America, and they hate cats. Back in the days of the lakehouse, when the feral cat colony that lived there had their spring babies, possums would decimate the kittens with impunity. So I'm not a lover of possums. However, after a while, I began to feel a little sorry for the fellow in the trap, and urged the SO to stop reading the paper, drinking coffee, et cetera while the possum was caged in the trap. He just left with the dog to relocate the possum. Odd how a thing like that will yank at your compassion.

Going to a ladies luncheon with my SO's mom today. We're listening to a horticulturist speak on antique roses. I'm sure I'll enjoy it, but I always dread these command performances a little, or resent having my time spoken for, I guess is the truth. Tomorrow is my lunch buddies from years ago, our monthly gathering. The Lunch Bunch, or the Birthday Club, or The Yorktown Auxiliary Club, depending on whose name for the group you prefer. I'm also dreading it a little. But these are the things I do always enjoy once I'm there. But today, this morning, I'm feeling the urge to sit down and write something. I suppose I could've done that first thing. However, I would've resented any interruption, especially if I had actually managed to get in the groove. Interruptions are deadly for me. But I really DO see that I need to find a way to get quiet with myself, listen to myself think, and get back to work. I need to sort out my time, quit wasting so much of it. I know this, yes I do.

Onward ....

Wildlife Week

It started last Friday a week ago, right after the SO's daughter-in-law's grandmother's funeral visitation. When we came up the driveway, with me driving, my SO saw "eyes" shining in the headlights. Two pair under the bird feeder in the back yard. He made me back up and point the car in that direction so he could see whatever was there. A couple of possums. I'd already had an altercation with one of these two, so there was no love lost. Don't like possums a bit. They used to kill the feral kittens at the lakehouse with regularity. The SO went in after his pistol and shot both of them out of the tree where they had sought sanctuary. Turns out one of them had babies, so he got nine possums with two shots. A good kill.

Then Monday, the dog began worrying the Suburban where it was parked just outside the garage. My SO went out to see what she was after, opened the hood and started the car. Nothing. Tuesday, she was still nervousing around the Suburban, so he repeated opening the hood and starting the car. I was outside piddling with my plants and he called me over. He asked, "Is this cat shit?" I peered into the guts of the Suburban. There were little piles on various parts under there, lying on the motor etc. I said I didn't think so. Anyway, cats bury their feces. We decided that the manure probably belonged to the two possums he had shot, and the dog was just smelling that they had been in there at one time. Case, along with the hood, closed.

Wednesday we're all outside. The dog is obsessed with the Suburban. SO opens the hood again, starts the engine. The insulation lining the underside of the hood has pulled loose. With the handle of a shovel, he bumps the loose insulation, and OMG! a ringtail comes slithering out of it's hidey-hole. Well, the dog went ballistic. I jumped away from the car. The SO cursed as the ringtail burrowed further into the open hood, disappearing into the belly of the Suburban, hiding in the drivetrain or somewhere under there. I quickly ran to take the cat inside, did not want him involved in this situation at all. The dog, I think, got the ringtail for a split second as it tried to escape out the back end of the car. But it shook itself loose and decided to quickly return to its dark hiding spot.

The dog and my SO harassed the ringtail for at least a half hour, trying everything to get it to show itself again. He beat on the car with a shovel. He sprayed all around and up under the car with a high pressure water nozzle, managing to get himself and the dog soaked, but the ringtail did not come back out in the open. I'm sure it was traumatized. I finally suggested that maybe if we all went back inside, the creature would come out of its own accord to seek a safer, less rowdy, place to nest. The SO backed the Suburban out into the grass, left the hood up, and we went into the house. We really don't know if the ringtail left or not. We never saw it again, but we did take that car to Austin mid-week, so maybe we relocated the critter. The dog, however, has not forgotten that the Suburban recently housed a wild animal. She continues to lie beneath it and stare longingly into the murky interior under there.

Tonight the house has been attacked by a large owl. Not the horned owl that lives here. This is a little smaller, reddish owl that apparently likes to use the roof of the living room as his lookout position. We have a small yellow light on a photocell at the edge of the outer wall. The cat and I were watching "The Pacific" on HBO tonight, the house was relatively quiet, we were minding our own business, when suddenly, a hellacious noise commenced on the roof. I looked at the window in time to see a red blur divebomb off the peak of the roof. I jumped up and turned on several floodlights. Finally I saw the owl when I turned on the porchlights as it swooped out of the big live oak in front of the house. In a while, I heard him ramming against the skylight in the office upstairs. I looked it up on Wikepedia. Did not realize that owls like insects as much as small furry mammals. I guess the lights have attracted bugs, and he was having himself a little smorgasbord.

Ah country life in Springtime ... sigh!

Onward ....