Possum in a Bucket

"Mom, Don has a baby possum in a bucket down at his store. And it's scared to death."

Oh no! Joker Don and his red-neck friends.

I flew into action. Snatched up my smallest animal cage. Packed a bag of warm milk, eyedropper, rags and paper towels. Grabbed my Super-Woman cape and put it on as I ran to the car. (Haven't perfected the art of flying yet.) It was cold. I should have brought more warm rags.

I skidded up to the door of Don's store and took a deep breath. Walking in with all the aplomb of a potential customer, I looked around until I saw the bucket. "Whatcha got in the bucket, Don?"

He stuck it up in my face, expecting me to jump and scream. Inside, the poor little fellow tried to hide behind a single clump of leaves.

"Oh, isn't that sweet. Whatcha going to do with it?"

"I don't know, let it loose later, I guess."

There was no way the baby would have survived on it's own. It had already been too long without food, considering Don brought it in that morning and it was nearly noon.

"How about I take it off your hands?"

"Yeah, I guess I've had all the fun I'm going to get out of it."

I snatched it out of the bucket and was out the door before Don could change his mind. I'd left the heater on in the car. I unveiled the milk. Of course, just like Opie, he didn't want any part of that hard glass eyedropper. But I've never had any luck with the bottles made for feeding orphaned animals. They either can't get anything out of it, or it comes out so fast they could drown. With an eyedropper I'm able to release exactly the amount I want. In the beginning they lick it off their lips (do possums have lips?) And within a day or two they don't care how hard it is, they jam it down their mouths and go for it.

He drank his fill and I put him under my sweater, against my warm skin where he promptly fell fast asleep. Phooey on the cage. This guy needed some one-on-one. I decided to call him Soupy (short for Marsupial).

I had every intention of keeping him only until he could survive in the wild. The criteria being: approximately fifteen inches in length - not including the tail. And having the ability to catch his own insects. And, oh yes, no imprinting allowed. :-) I had to keep our relationship impersonal. Okay, I can do that.

Soupy had different ideas about where he would spend the rest of his life. (He told me in confidence that road-kill was not his idea of good eatin'.) Mushrooms, avocado, broccoli, lemon yogart. Lots of lemon yogurt. Now that's good eatin'!

I made him follow his National Opossum Society Diet for the most part. Oh well, it's still better than road-kill.


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