Conversation with Sinead O’Possum

We have a new buddy who comes around late at night to partake of the cat’s kibble on the porch. On the advice of a friend, I have named the critter Sinead O’Possum, even though I don’t know if it is male or female, and I’m not going to lift its tail to check. I doubt that possums can read the Strays Welcome sign, but in any case, Sinead has decided that the porch buffet is worth sampling on a semi-regular basis. I’ve startled Sinead a time or two when I turned on the porch light, and the first time it happened, Sinead played dead. The performance was so convincing that I went inside and got a towel to pick him/her up and render aid (or a proper burial, whichever was required). But when I wrapped the towel around the possum’s limp-looking body, the critter held tight to the cat tower and refused to budge. I offered some apology-grapes, and tried to convince Sinead that I wouldn’t harm her (or him, whatever). Sinead is not convinced, but that’s for the best, because our dogs aren’t as friendly to wild animals as the cats are. Possums on the porch are clearly old-news to the cats of Dragonfly Pond Farm. In fact, Blue Kitten (king of the porch) claims that Sinead is his brother and a good friend. (I just wish Jed felt the same way.) All the humans have been alerted to take extra precautions and not let the dogs outside without first checking that Sinead isn’t on the porch or in the yard. I asked Sinead where she lives, and thank goodness, it’s not on our property but in the woods nearby. I told her to avoid lingering on the way to and from the porch. I hope she listens.

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