Joey

It appears that we have a family of opossums living in our backyard shed.

Several times, my husband and I’ve seen a full-grown opossum walking on the fence top, away from the shed and toward our garden, in the early evening. My husband suggested that we put apple slices in the yard, which made sense to me. We reasoned that opossums are helpful in keeping bugs away, but we’d also like to hang on to any tomatoes and peppers that survive the summer’s blazing heat. A tasty snack could be a win/win for humans and marsupials.

Then this morning, we found a small opossum in our trash can not far from the shed. Based on size, it is not far from babyhood. We gently tipped the can on its side and placed a few apple slices on the path to entice baby opossum out.

A baby opossum is called a joey. As of this writing, our Joey is still in the trash can, unwilling to leave. I suppose staring humans makes it nervous, so we’ll leave Joey alone for a bit and hope that it makes its way back home. And now, on trash days, we’ll be sure to check the cans before taking them to the curb.

Today’s cuppa summarizes our initial feelings about finding Joey and, perhaps, Joey’s feelings about being discovered. There’s no reason we can’t get along, however, as long as we share a few apple slices and enough space for roaming.