As I said in my previous entry, the possum has returned. When we last left our persistent possum, it was huddled inside the wardrobe of my study. Whenever I peeked in at it, it was not asleep. I'm not sure whether that was because my opening the door (squeaky hinges) woke it up, or because it was too uncomfortable and scared to relax enough to sleep. I'm fairly certain it didn't drink the water I left, because it appeared not to have moved. Perhaps it felt that its position on a half-fallen-over suitcase was too precarious for it to move.
I had, as I said, left a message with the possum man Frans, on his mobile. But I did not hear back from him. Fair enough, he could have been on holiday or out or something. The sun was going down, and I didn't want to leave the possum in the wardrobe overnight, for my sake, for its sake, and for the sake of the contents of the wardrobe. So I decided that if I hadn't heard from Frans by eight o'clock, I would have to evict the possum myself.
Eight o'clock rolled around. It was eviction time.
- dressed in old clothing that I didn't mind if it got ruined.
- socks and shoes, not sandals.
- old ratty cardigan to protect arms.
- gardening gloves.
- went through the house and closed all the doors I could.
- opened the front door and screen door.
- took off the bags hanging on the handle of the study door, and shut the study door.
- opened the wardrobe door carefully and picked up the dish of water and put it well away from the action.
Then I pounced. One hand grabbed the back of its head so that it couldn't immediately bite me. It tried to bolt, and it was a squirming wriggling bundle of muscle and fur, but I grabbed it by an appendage before it could dart between my legs, and it was squealing but it hadn't managed to bite or scratch me. Then I realised I had it by one leg, but that meant that the tail was able to be grabbed, so I grabbed it by the tail (the end of the tail) and it was clawing at the carpet and pissing like a fountain, but I managed to pull it up so that it didn't have purchase on anything. When I lifted it up in the air, it stopped struggling, but I noticed that its front arms were out wide with its paws outstretched ready to claw, and I knew that if I let it get near anything -- the floor, a wall, myself -- then the battle would be joined again.
I carefully carried it out the front door and let it go. It was off down the front path and up a tree in a trice.
I closed the door, took off the gloves, and generously squirted the pissed-on carpet with orange oil. Hopefully that will take care of the smell.
I still have no idea how the possum got in.