It's 11:45p.m. on a Saturday and I'm
out grabbing my last cigarette before bed. If you can call it a
cigarette, it's really some electronic vaporizer designed to make me
quit. I still 'vapor' outside, call it force of habit. The silence
is broken by a loud rustling. I look down from my steps and there is
an opossum. It is scared and looks like it just barely escaped
whatever was after it. As I stare down at the poor creature my
first thought is, I have to get a picture of this thing for the blog.
It looks up at me wearily and jumps through the lattice beneath my
stairs. I run inside for my shoes and a camera. Two seconds later
I'm back out and my ape brain grabs a stick. I can hear the opossum
under the landing, so I gently push the stick in to coax the scared
creature out. After wiggling the stick for a while, I put it back
down and walk up the steps. I hear the opossum shift uncomfortably
several feet beneath me. I run back inside and grab a large cup
of water.
Ecig and cup in one hand and camera in the other, I am
ready to water bomb a defenseless animal seeking shelter, just to
take it's picture. As I clutch the cup ready to douse, I
lift the viewfinder to my eye in hopes of a decent shot. In the
darkness I hear an animal behind me. It's not bigger than me, but I
can't be sure what it is. I walk up the stairs seeking the safety of
the light. Shuffling begins beneath the boards underfoot. I hear
whatever it was behind me, retreat through the chain link fence. It
hits me. I feel regret in empathy.
I was planning to scare the hell out of
a harmless animal in hopes of getting it's picture for the blog.
Opossums have never done anything to
me. I've enjoyed seeing them, and sometimes their babies, go
scurrying across my yard. They don't do any damage like the rabbits
and groundhogs.
Why did it take me so long to realize
what I was doing was wrong? Just two days ago, I was preaching to
the kids about being careful in the woods and not disturbing the
animals' home. As we walked down the trails, I explained to them
that nature was important and that we had to make sure it always had
a place. Now nature needed a place and I was trying to force it out.
I decided to go inside and leave my visitor alone.
About a half hour went by and I was
just finishing up writing this entry. I turned the porch light on
and grabbed the ecig. As I opened the door I could just make out the
hind side of the opossum at the edge of the light. I looked back at
my camera, leaving it I walked out. The opossum turned back for a
second. I wondered, if I had seen his eyes would pity be looking
back at me? He then continued forward in a relaxed pace and we
parted ways.
I'm so glad you thought twice about taking the picture -- possums also easily frightened and can be susceptible to dying of fright from a heart attack. Your hesitation may have saved its life.
ReplyDeleteYeah, when I lived in the house, I used to go out late night with bare feet. There was an opossum there that would come up to the front porch and nudge my toes with it's nose. The first time it did it, I freaked. The poor thing ran three steps and, 'hit the deck'. I walked over to it and it was doing a poor job of 'playing possum'. It was shaking so violently, I thought it might be injured and was worried about it. The next morning it was gone, but I saw it a few nights later.
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