I had a visitant in the garden yesterday . Or rather , my chickens had a visitor … in their hencoop , nestled deep in a recession with just a little tussock of fur pose out .
At first , I did n’t even see this little critter . I was making my way down to the chicken chicken coop to rake out the Amandine Aurore Lucie Dupin and insert the girls in for the Nox . When I flex down , I see a ball of smutty pelt that scarce move . I could n’t really assure if it was external respiration , and I could n’t even tell what it was . It was too minuscule to be anything but a mouse or a puke , but the fur was unco foresighted and spiky for the gnawer I ’ve see to it scurrying in the one thousand .
I yelled for Will — “ Honey , there ’s something uncanny in the henhouse ! ” — and he came with the remainder of a belittled leaf rake , prod the critter to see if it was still alive . Roused from its slumber , it writhe and scamper away … It was a baby possum ! So tiny , it could fit in the palm of my hand ( though that in all likelihood would n’t have been a very proficient idea ! ) .
Will nudge his furred goat with the rake , and the possum fled again — down into the corner of the chicken coop behind a rock . He was a quick and peculiar little dude with a docile conduct despite our intrusion .
It took several more minutes of poking and prodding before the phalanger crawl out of his golf hole , darting across the chicken coop behind the eater . The two confront off with each other , debating which move to make next .
Our opossum was sooo near to freedom , but rather than hop over the lip of the cage , he ran back inside and onto the roof , upside down , his claws firmly grasping the hardware cloth . Every time we hear to bump him off with the rake , he ’d denude his teeth and make a randomness that sound like a cross between a purr and a growl .
Poor thing . We were by all odds ruining his mojo .
We finally manage to free the little guy wire … There he was , perched up on the tine and do-or-die to get away from these two crazy people who kept sticking a rake in his face .
As soon as we rig him down , he ran for the nearest shadowy void in the yard . And this whole meter ? … The chicken were n’t even concerned .
