When the cat water on the deck got all muddy the other night, I realized a raccoon was visiting for an after-hours snack of cat food. I don't mind feeding the elusive tan feral cat that I'm trying to tame, or the possums, but draw the line at the raccoons. No possums had been seen on the deck in a long while, so I concluded that they had gotten tired of being carried around by Beau.
Last night, I baited the trap with a banana and sunflower seeds. This morning, I found I'd caught the possum. Even before I had my morning coffee (heroic action in my case) I propped open the door to the trap and went back inside the house. Some time later, the possum was still in there. Apparently it was comfortable in the grass lining the cage.
I knew Beau would go berserk when I let him out, so I gently dumped the possum out. Another time, I lured a possum out of the trap with a peach, only to find it had gotten the peach and taken it back into the cage to enjoy.
This time, I shut the trap door to block an unstrategic retreat. An hour later, the crazy critter was still lying by the trap. Even a small bowl of cat food didn't rouse it. It wasn't exactly playing dead, since it was looking at me, but it held so still that it let a yellow-jacket explore its tongue. Talk about nerves of steel.
At last, it moved on and I let Beau out. Too bad he's nearly useless at patrolling for raccoons. In the ten years I've been here, he's only caught one. They are fierce fighters and he isn't, despite being a Coon Hound.
The possums think that's all to the good.
