Zombie

This morning, I saw the above posted on a friend’s facebook page.  I must admit I was unaware of the information presented and while I have not researched it, I did find it interesting.  It also reminded me of a possum story of my own.

I grew up in Texas, and possum are fairly common.  Usually you can ignore them and they will ignore you.  I am one of those people who does not wish to interfere with wildlife unless I intend to eat it or feel that it intends to eat me.  You will never see me hunting for sport or doing catch-and-release fishing, for example.  It just isn’t my thing.

Anyway, out in the country where we were living in my last couple of years at home, there was a possum that came into the yard with some regularity.  What we discovered was that it was seeking food and had found a ready source in the form of the dog’s food in the garage.  Perhaps my folks should have rethought how they were storing it and the problem could have just gone away.  But no, they didn’t and so instead we had a possum coming to visit.  All in all not a big deal until the point where the possum began to get into conflict with the dogs.

Dogs want their food.  Possum wants their food.  Fight ensues.  Possum are large–at least this one was, probably from a steady diet of dog chow or whatever other scraps it was finding in the area.  Possum may not be as scary as they look, but let me assure you they do look scary…..and if they are scared, all bets are off as to what will happen.  Obviously having injured dogs or having oneself injured while trying to break up such a fight is a really bad prospect.  They have sharp and scary teeth.  And sure, that posting says 95% of them do not carry rabies, but I did not want to be involved with that other 5 percenter either.  To a 17 year old, a 12 year old, and two 8 year olds, this is simply a disaster in the making.  And since on the night of this story we were the only ones home, it was up to us to decide the course of action.  My 12 year old brother was a bit of a gun nut.  (this was many years ago in Texas where it was commonplace for kids to have small rifles from about the age of 8 onward and for the most part no harm ever came from the teaching and respect for firearms that was instilled in the youth of the time….but that’s another story)  Seeing as how my brother had recently gotten a new 12 gauge Remington 870 shotgun for Christmas he naturally wanted to use it.  And, given the situation, it seemed like a good idea.

When the ensuing fight reached a certain point, we intervened…got the dogs away….and the possum hissed at us and then played dead.  Possums  shut down into a suspended animation of sorts and while I am no expert, they do appear dead–all noticeable activity ceases.  I imagine that due to the shutting down of everything, this is why there was no gush of blood when I shot him.  Not very sporting of me, but I knew he’d just wake up and be back and the process would repeat as it had so many times before–perhaps with a worse outcome next time.  So–BANG!– I shot it while it was “asleep”  Just one shot.  With a 12 gauge.  From about 6-ish feet away.

I solemnly handed the gun back to my brother, and got a plastic bag and gloves on so that I could pick up the body and dispose of it.

In my world, when you shoot something with a 12 gauge from only 6 feet away, it does not get up again.  The possum, however, had other ideas.

Yes, right as I bent down in the dark with the bag, the possum opened its eyes and hissed at me as it stood up!  Zombie possum.  Clearly I should have followed the rule in the “Zombieland” movie about the double tap….but this was decades before such movies.  Instead, the possum had the last laugh and scared the hell out of all of us.  I ran one direction, my brother and sisters in another.

Of course, once the possum got moving, all that activity and blood flow resulted in a very fast leak and he keeled over within a second–dead for real this time…..but not before showing us just how scary he could be.