Archie Warren Draper: Possum Hunter

Summary haiku:
Bye, hidden possum.
Thanks for giving us our shed
back. And good riddance.












So, if you've been following any of my periodic Facebook updates, or if you happen to be a good friend of mine, you've probably heard about the ongoing saga of Archie and our shed.

Ever since this incident, in which Archie shimmied under the shed and I had to dig him out during a thunderstorm, he has been obsessed with circling and barking at the shed.

This was June 17. And Kyle boarded up the edges of the shed, right? So what the hell? Even if there was something under there, there's no way it could still be alive after nearly four months. Right?

Well, Kyle was off work today. So even though we've unboarded the shed a couple of different times to make sure there was nothing underneath, Kyle did it once more. And this time, he poked around underneath with a broom handle. And guess what happened?

A big, nasty possum scurried out, bearing its teeth. "Oh shit!," Kyle thought, trying to collect the pets and get them inside. (Unfortunately, Archie and Lucy were also outside at the time because Kyle was certain he'd find nothing new under there.)

Archie came ripping around the side of the shed -- no barking, no growling -- but he was gonna show the object of his summer-long obsession who owned this fucking yard. Kyle didn't see exactly what happened at first, but it ended Archie wrestling the possum, which was about the same size as him (17 pounds).

Kyle collected Lucy and Archie, while the possum just laid there. Kyle thought it was dead... but that whole playing possum cliche didn't come from nowhere.

(A moment of education, courtesy of Indiana University website: "Possums are famous for "playing dead" when threatened, but this isn't quite accurate. They are not "playing" dead at all: the possum goes into shock when particularly stressed. While not dead, it can be found lying on its side with its legs extended and is, in fact, limp and unconscious during this time, like a person who has fainted.")

About a minute later, Kyle looked out the kitchen window and saw the possum mosey over into the corner of the yard. That's when he called me and relayed the story.

Apparently, Archie bit the possum because it had a slight limp as it walked across the yard.

So of course, paranoid mom called the vet to make sure Archie wouldn't have any nasty possum diseases. (They said he'd be fine since he was up to date on his shots.)

But anyway. The shed has been re-boarded up at the bottom. And we're damn sure nothing is under there anymore (and that the possum has left our yard), because for the first time in months, Archie is just peacefully tooling around the yard, marking his territory. Which, of course, includes the same patch of shed from which the possum emerged. He peed on that part twice.

Need I mention how glad I am that I was working when all this took place?

Kyle's summary of the situation: "Possums are no joke."