Our Opossum History

My husband and I are still considered newly weds, but as we near our one year anniversary we've been mindful of our awesome history. We met in seventh grade as gangly, self-conscious band geeks. We did not exactly fall in love at first sight, but by the time we were 16 we were the icky gooey sweethearts. So, history is something we've got plenty of. And history is only as good as the story teller, so here goes...

You remember the phase in a relationship where you feel that you have something to prove? The phase where you need prove that unlike other people, you don't do embarrassing things like burp, trip over your own feet, or heaven forbid -fart. Well thankfully, although guys don't need to prove that stuff, they do need to prove that they can be your hero. My dear man proved all his heroism as he battled a wild opossum.

We were watching a movie when I thought I heard something out in my garage. I went to check it out through the window, and didn't see anything, so returned to couch. Upon hearing something again, I sent the man to investigate. As he stood at the window, staring through the curtain, I could tell by the inflection in his voice that the night was about to get interesting.

"What! What is it? What's wrong?"

"Just look." he says.

Remember the R.O.U.S. from the Princess Bride? You remember them. They were the rodents of unusual size that were so ridiculous, but still horrifying as they attacked sweet Wesley. THAT is what was staring back at me! Directly at eye level on my shelves of garage-ish stuff, all I could see were beady eyes, whiskers, snarled teeth, and the biggest rat-like tale ever. Ok, so really it was a fairly standard issue opossum, but those things are nasty. They hiss, they snap teeth, and make a total mess of your trash cans.

We quickly started formulating our plan for how to deal with the beast, and I spoke up to rule out pepper spray. My last opossum encounter that I tried to deal with on my own with the pepper spray I left hanging by the door for late night intruders ended with me partially blind, coughing up a lung, and calling a neighbor who owned a gun to put the opossum out of his misery.

The plan we came up with together was clearly SO much better. It involved a long stick, a butcher knife, and a shoe string. You may be wondering why not just wait it out and wait for the animal to leave, but that just didn't suit me. So, my then needing to be heroic boyfriend went jousting for opossum. It was messy, but darn it all we won! Broke the knife, snapped the shoe string, but also killed the opossum.

So, that's what did it. His heroic status well earned, I knew this man would do anything for me. And that's the kind you want!

*Please note, I love animals but feel satisfied that I'm within my rights to defend my home from invaders!