even so, this house has its quirks. like the mysteriously flickering lights that eventually resulted in freaky power surges that made me think the entire house was either going to burn down or mimic a scene from poltergeist. we were without power for a few days until our landlords finally responded to our many emergency calls and sent someone to check it out. this was especially pleasant as it was the middle of summer. the culprit turned out to be neither a ghost nor faulty wiring but a pesky squirrel that likes to knaw on power lines.
then there was the mysterious odor that presented itself to us as an unpleasant whiff here and there and that gradually grew to an unbearable, odiferous stench. we had, of course, notified our landlords before it got to this point. they sent someone out a week and a half later. the men thought i was crazy since by that time whatever unfortunate animal had made its last dying refuge in the crawl space beneath my home had decomposed to the point where there was no longer a smell of any sort. the heat of an athens summer and the industrious work of our decomposer friends helped out a bit with that one.
maybe you're catching onto a pattern here? my house issues seem to mostly involve interactions with the resident wildlife. and i haven't even mentioned the interesting array of insect species that were drawn to my bathroom light all summer long. i considered starting an insect collection. seriously. i've lived in athens for a while and never seen anything to equal this varietal display of arthropod species. at least not inside.
perhaps my house is a sort of dr.doolittle of buildings. drawing in wildlife and offering them some sort of refuge. or death as the case may be. i can't say that many of those insects ever escaped. although i tried to free the more interesting ones but gave up at some point because there were just too many and they kept coming back. as for the squirrel... well, i can't imagine that chewing on live power lines is a very safe habit to have. which brings me to my new housemate. the opossum.
the suicidal possum i've decided. what wild animal in its right mind decides to take up residence in a home occupied by three people, two large cats, and a 45 pound dog that barks at it?
this possum is crazy i tell you. crazy.
(the following information is courtesy of the peterson field guide to mammals)
didelphis marsupialis: the only north american marsupial. prehensile tail. often seen in beam of auto headlights or dead along highways (or in jenna's house). farming habitats preferred but also found in woodlands or along streams (or in jenna's house). sometimes hunted for sport, especially in the south (hmmm...). occasionally raids poultry yards (often raids jenna's house). the only wildlife species that is considered to be clinically insane (ok, i made that part up).
you get the point.
when first i made the surprised acquaintance of my new roommate, he was just a cute little thing. probably not too many days gone from hanging out on his mom's back with his 13 or so other siblings. our first two encounters went something life this:
5:30 am. scuffling noises in my bedroom. must be one of the cats. shut up cat. back to sleep.
6:15 am. still dark. more noises but no meowing. my cats are loud. this is unusual. whatever, it's 6:15 in the morning. shut up cat. back to sleep.
6:30 am. what the fuck? turn the light on. silence. kitty? nothing. hmm. fall asleep with the light on.
7:00 am. i'm going to kill that damn cat. where the fuck are you? noises coming from the bookcase next to my bed. well, hello little thing. you're not a cat.
not a cat indeed. more like a tiny, 2 pound baby possum hanging out on my bookshelf. trying to catch up on some reading perhaps. i'm sure "the unifying neutral theory of biogeography" is riveting to this possum. it does deal with relevant wildlife issues but... ok, anyway.
so i grab a shirt and pick up the little guy to take it outside. it seems pretty chill about it all. nothing more aggressive than a tiny little hiss and then it just hangs out and looks at me. cute little thing.
so i take it outside and put it on a tree branch. possums live in trees don't they? it flops over and looks dead. i scrutinize it and worry that i somehow hurt it. it is really little after all. and then i realize. it's doing what possums do. playing possum. oh, that little rascal.
7:15 am. finally back to bed.
i tell my roommate the story and she freaks out and thanks the good lord that it was in my room and not hers. i try to tell her how small and babyish and cute it was but she looks at me like i'm crazy.
2 days later:
5:30 am. scuffle. scuffle. no way. can't be. that idiot possum. i'll pretend it's the cats and go back to sleep.
6:00 am. i hate you possum. what kind of fool animal comes back to a house where there are three animals that want to eat it? light on. nothing.
6:30 am. time to get up for work. i know you're in here stupid. stop hiding. no luck. my coercing doesn't convince the possum to come out. i see neither hide nor tail of it and think (hope) i'm just being paranoid but i close the door to my room to trap him there just in case.
5:00 pm. i open my door. my roommate is home and is proceeding to freak out when i tell her that our little friend has come back. she hopes i'm wrong but what's this on my bed? tiny shit. no joke. a present from our guest. on my pillow. kind of like those nice hotel chocolates but not anything like that at all. thanks little buddy. so where is he? curled up in my suitcase among my clothes.
damn he's cute. i tell my roommate and she once again thinks i'm crazy but she comes to look and immediately exclaims over his cuteness and approximation of domesticity. she wants to keep him. sort of. then she worries about his home life. maybe he's an abandoned orphan and is going to die? maybe he's lonely and wants to make friends? i look at her like she's crazy and put him outside.
this all happened in the summer. after those two incidents we made sure to keep our attic door closed and this seems to have done the trick. no more possum in the house. almost. now he lives in the walls.
we weren't sure that it was him until recent evidence confirmed our suspicions:
prior to visual confirmation, we thought that it was perhaps a raccoon, or a large bobcat, or possibly even a bear owing to the loud and disturbing racket that it makes when going about its evening business within our walls.
since we cut off his access to the inside of our house we've come to accept his presence. even the animals are accustomed to his nightly forays although they do get a little bit antsy when he's hanging out in the vent and watching what's going on in the living room. his eyes glow. it can be a little creepy. otherwise we're all just one big happy family. until we get our heat turned on and the vents possibly become a little too hot for comfort. my roommate is very concerned about that. in fact, i have a sneaking suspicion that that is why we don't have our heat turned on even though it is really fucking cold. i guess that's what space heaters are for...
