Who posted the posum in the kitchen story a while back...

[WCGreen]

[Z_I_Peevey]

1. Hey

That was me.

[WCGreen]

2. That was such a great story......

I thought I had bookmarked it....

Could you post it back up?

You had a great way with words and I wanted to show Mrs. WCGreen...

I also think the story would make a great song....

[Z_I_Peevey]

3. I have no clue how to repost it, sorry.

However, give me a few days and I'm sure something equally ridiculous will happen to me.

[WCGreen]

4. I'll see if I can get it....

It was really good....

[WCGreen]

5. Here it is.....

My teenage daughter was asleep on the couch, feeling a little under the weather. I couldn't sleep so I was at the computer. I heard pots and pans clanging in the kitchen, so I assumed the daughter unit had awakened and was making a snack. Time passed, the clanging continued. I got up to investigate.

Now there's a curtain hanging between the den and kitchen, and as I pulled it aside, what should I see but the biggest, ugliest possum EVER sitting contentedly atop the dirty dishes in my sink. Just staring at me. I was bumfuzzled, as this is a situation I had never faced before.

How in the hell did he get there, I thought. My razor-sharp powers of deduction activated, I figured Possum had come in through an open window that houses a box fan, and if I made sudden sharp movements, he would dart back out the window from whence he came. So I advanced, juked him a couple of times. He stared at me some more, then leisurely strolled over to a spot behind my toaster oven and sat his possum ass down.

Perhaps the fan scares him, I thought. So I went to the window, snatched the fan out as quickly as I could and waited for Possum to make his exit. I'm about two feet away, and I noted his claws and teeth. I decided to retreat. Possum continued to sit and stare at me. (Now, the only possums I have encountered have been outside, and they tended to dart about rather quickly. This one, not so much.)

I finally decided to take a more agressive approach. Grabbing a length of plastic pipe, I advanced toward the toaster oven. I started to to jab Possum in the butt. He resisted. I went to a two-handed baseball-bat-holding posture. We struggled. Possums have more muscle mass than you'd expect. I finally won the contest, sending Possum out the window and, I hoped, out of my life forever. But no!

As I craned to look out the window, what did I see but little possum paws a-clinging to the aluminum frame of the window. And still, his little possum eyes were just a-staring at me.

So I shut the window as fast as I could and went immediately to bed. Possum was gone this morning. I wonder how long he hung there.

I just thought you guys would want to know all this.

[CaliforniaPeggy]

6. That's a great story, my dear WC.....I'm glad you were able to get it....

I'd be interested in how you turn this into a song...

A ballad, perhaps? The Ballad of the Pervasive Possum...?

:rofl:

You can probably come up with a better title than that.......

[WCGreen]

7. Possum in the Kitchen.....

There it is....

[CaliforniaPeggy]

8. Well, yes...that is a much better title....

There it is indeed.....:hug:

[AmyDeLune]

9. Now you've reminded me of my opossum story...

This was about 20 years ago, when you could hardly swing a 'possum without hitting another 'possum.

We had an aging dauschshund-terrier who was big into chasing things but not so much on the actual catching part. It seems that while on night patrol in the back yard he had startled a baby 'possum about the size of a rat. Being a 'possum, rather than running it played dead, dropping on the spot. Somewhat amazed at his hunting prowess (or perhaps embarrassed that his breath had turned out to be lethal) the dog dutifully picked the little fellow up, brought him into the house and deposited him next to the wood stove. Apparently feeling that he had done his moral duty, the dog then went around to the other side of the stove and promptly fell asleep.

In the meantime, I was on the way to the kitchen when I see what appears to be a big, dead rat laying by the stove. Cautiously going closer, I see that it is not a rat, but an opossum. Knowing that 'possums play dead, I lean over it to see if it is still breathing and at this point, while still "dead" he pulls back his little lips, showing his tiny, pointy teeth. Then the dog wakes up, saunters over and gives me a look that says, "He's all yours, I'm not gonna eat'm." and proceeds to watch with some puzzlement as I carefully scoop the little guy up with the ash shovel from the stove and take him outside.

He apparently suffered no ill effects, I saw him a few days later sitting on top of our compost heap eating an orange rind. The dog never "caught" anything else (though his career as a snack-snatcher continued unabated).

And for the record, opossums, according to a friend who had one as a pet, are actually immune to rabies and do not carry the disease.

[WCGreen]

10. Thank you...

I was inspired to write a song about a possum....

We shall see how it ends....

[AmyDeLune]

11. Hurray! :-)

I look forward to it. 'Possums are sadly underrepresented in music. :)

[WCGreen]

13. Actually, I was at a concert and the guy was doing songs about

everyday stuff when it struck me, that what would be more funny than a song about a possum in the kitchen....

I listen to Americana Music, BTW....

That might make more sense...

Now I couldn't see Iron Maiden blastin' away about a possum, but John Prine or even thr Grateful Dead, Oh Yea....

[southlandshari]

12. Not the most recent, but Lone_Star_Dem's will always be a classic to me!

http://www.democraticunderground.com/discuss/duboard.php?az=show_topic&forum=105&topic_id=3234597

[WCGreen]

14. Thanks!

You can never have enough material for a song....

[southlandshari]

15. You are most welcome!

:hi:

[NV Whino]

16. Here's one of my possum stories...

This occured when I lived in So Cal at Malibu Lake. I was awakened one night around midnight with a "crack, crunch, crunch, crunch" sound coming from the porch just outside my bedroom window. I raised up and pulled back the curtain to see what was going on. "Oh," I said to myself, "it's only Blue, my blue point Siamese eating walnuts." I drifted back to sleep. The first thought in my head the next morning was, "Wait a minute. Cat's don't crack and eat walmuts." The evidence was there, though, outside my bedroom window--dozens of cracked walnut shells.

That night I again heard "crack, crunch, crunch, crunch." This time, armed with a flashlight, I jumped out of bed and dashed to the porch door. No, it wasn't the cat. It was a cat-sized possum dining on walnut from the tree that overhung the porch. He looked around and said something in possum that I'm sure meant, "Get that light out of my eyes, you fool," and calmly went back to munching his walnuts.

This went on for several nights until he had cleaned up all the walnuts in the area.