Monday, April 19, 2010

We had an intruder Saturday night. Someone came down the chimney into my room, and it wasn't Santa Claus.

A thud woke me up just before 2am. There was rustling over by the fireplace. I squinted through the darkness and thought I saw a shadow move across the floor. So I got out of bed, turned on the light…

…and a freaking possum ran out from under my desk.

It started rampaging around the room. Climbing up walls, jumping from table to bed and chucking stuff everywhere. I ran downstairs, grabbed the broom and chased the thing through the house towards the back door. It was perched on top of the door at one point, and I got a really good look at its claws as I leaned over and slowly edged the key towards the lock. Man, those things are huge. Practically eagle talons. Not surprising, since the beast was itself the size of a raccoon. Then it took a flying leap, missing my head by about six inches, and beat feet it into the living room, where it started scaling the bookcases, sending picture frames and remote controllers flying in its wake.

When it ran back up to my room, I decided it was time to enlist the help of the armed forces.

Dan,” I called out, “there’s an animal in the house and I want it out!” Years of military training and the best he could come up with was “I’ll trap it under this sheet, and you beat it with the broom.” He assured me that Australian possums do not carry rabies. Yes, he was sure. Yes, absolutely positive.

In the end, it ran back up the chimney before we got to it. Which I then blocked with the extra mattress from under my bed and a chest of drawers.

Then I woke up Sunday morning and we had no water. Revenge?

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