I KNEW IT

I knew that something very strange has been going on here late at night. I'm not talking about the coyotes. Or the cats. Or even the mice.

I'd be snuggled in bed reading, long after midnight (which is my usual habit on these incredibly chilly autumn nights). 
Suddenly....
I'd hear very strange noises coming from various regions of the house. I initially thought it was the cats.

But these noises weren't exactly cat noises. The kitties usually just silently creep and wander. Bosco and Scruffy sometimes race around the room, playing tag....and whatever the heck felines do to entertain themselves at ungodly hours.

These new noises involved clanging, banging, and loud scratching. Most especially in the kitchen. It was as though a phantom chef was preparing dinner.

Sometimes something unnervingly large would scurry past my bed. I kept telling myself it was one of the cats.....
......until I looked and saw that all three of the cats were sound asleep.

I assured (or semi-assured) myself that it was a large mouse.
But it must have been one helluva MEGA mouse - wearing cleats on wooden shoes.
Maybe Mickey??

Also, ALL the cat food was disappearing quickly. I always leave dry food out for the cats to nibble on. Every morning the bowls would be completely empty.

Late last night the mystery of the noises was solved. All three of my cats were congregated in the small room where I keep one of my pianos. They were intently watching something in a corner, behind a chair.

I grabbed a flashlight, which revealed that the something was round, furry, and very much alive.
It didn't take me long to know it was a 'possum.
Or an opossum, for anyone who wants to be correct. 

 Cornered

The first thing I did (after panicking slightly) was to usher all the cats out of the room.
The next thing I did was wonder how I was going to catch him (her?).

A brainstorm sent me out to the garage, where I got one of the large cages that I had put the cats in when I moved from Texas to Tennessee.

I placed the cage in front of the 'possum, cornering him by the wall and a bookcase. Not one to be fooled, he darted away and squeezed under a desk ( in a tight space of about two inches!).

Finally I got a broom and prodded him out from under the desk and back by the cage. He was shrewd and defiant, but also docile and non-aggressive. 

 Finally in the cage, trying to get out the door (that's an old beach towel on the cage)

To make a long story short (yea, I know it's too late) I eventually got him into the cage with the help of the broom. He kept trying to get out the cage door and it was difficult to lock it with my bare hands ('possums are cute - - but they can BITE BIG TIME).

The entire 'possum ordeal took over an hour.

I carried the cage outside and put it on the back porch. Then I took it a good distance away and turned the 'possum loose.
Thankfully there was a full moon so I could see what I was doing.

A happy ending for all.

 Out on the back porch

This isn't the first time a 'possum got into my house. The other one was bigger and much more aggressive. He got in through the vent to the clothes dryer hookup (I fixed that).

This one got in (I think) through a small wall opening behind the refrigerator (which I sealed today).

Note:
against my better judgement, I'm going to allow comments again. I luv all of you people (yes, even the annoying ones) - - but I did enjoy my comment-free mini vacation.

TALKING TO MYSELF

 It's sort of like freedom.....

 

My blog is still temporarily comment-free and I'm loving it. That sounds extremely selfish and antisocial but it's also liberating. I feel like I'm talking only to myself and nobody is listening.

Hey, Jon - nobody was listening even when you had comments. Don't be so damn stuck on yourself.

Don't try to ruin my Big Moment, Kemo Sabe. When I talk to myself I say exactly what I want, without the fear of ramifications.

Ramifications?

Yea, like somebody hiring a hit man to blow me away (no sexual implications, of course) - - or people putting pins in Jon voodoo dolls. There are a helluva lot of sore Hillary losers out there. Fury hath no limitations.
(I just made that one up).

Jon, most of the Hillary supporters have stopped blogging due to shock. The rest are out rioting. I think you're safe.

That's probably true, but the We Hate Trump brigade is growing like warts on a hog's ass - - and it has crossed the Big Pond and infiltrated Great Britain. Every damn Brit blogger has joined the Force.

Well, with a ninety-year-old queen they really don't have anything better to do. Speaking of "doing", what have you been doing lately?

Besides gloating? And rapidly losing blog followers? Hell, nothing much. Actually, something very exciting did happen last night - but I'll save that for my next blog post.

Did this excitement have anything to do with sex?

Well, I encountered something nocturnal, warm, furry, with sharp teeth.

You've been screwing with vampires again, haven't you?

Vampires aren't warm, Kemo Sabe. At least not until they're fed. 
I'll tell about last night tomorrow. Does that make any sense?

You seldom make sense, Jon.

I seldom drive into town, either - - but I did today. I got gas, went to the bank, paid bills, got groceries. And drank some beer before I embarked. If nothing else, it was a meaningful excursion. Not to mention an inebriated one.

Got gas??

Petrol. For the thirsty vehicle.

This has been an exciting and meaningful conversation, Jon.

You mean it's over? I was just getting warmed up. Like an over-fed vampire.

You need to get in touch with reality more often, Jon. Why don't you lift the ban on your comments and start interacting again?

When Trump becomes president, there really won't be anyone to interact with, Kemo Sabe.

What do you mean, Jon?

Well, the gays will be in concentration camps, the minorities will be back in chains, the illegals will be on the other side of the Great Wall, the old people will be in bread lines, and the women will be pregnant, barefooted, and busy in the kitchen.

Most of your readers aren't, laughing, Jon. You really know how to milk the hell out of this Trump thing, don't you?

I'm having the time of my life, Kemo Sabe. Being an antagonizing bitch is one of my many specialties. It's a gift. I'm baring my fangs - - and nobody can bite back!