Playing Possum

Things are relatively back to normal around here. Ken recovered, having a very mild case of the ‘vid and I never did get it, mostly because I’m convinced that I had covid already at the end of January 2020—right before everything started to get shut down. I was incredibly sick back then and lost my sense of taste, so I’m convinced that I had OG covid, which has made me immune to all these new strains, plus I’ve had all my boosters. Plus plus, Ken has the immune system of a big baby:

Me: I didn’t get covid from you because I have a kick-ass immune system.
Ken: You didn’t get covid because you weren’t in the direct line of fire of that woman at the art auction who sounded like she was dying.
Me: I was sitting next to you! AND I LIVE WITH YOU!

And then I felt really bad because I had MADE Ken go to the art auction on the cruise ship on the grounds that ‘it would be fun and also there is free champagne’. So we went, neither of us having any intention of buying overpriced art. Just like I went to all the jewelry events even though I had no intention of buying any overpriced jewelry. But again, there was FREE CHAMPAGNE. And yes, Ken and I both had beverage packages so we didn’t have to pay for any alcohol, but isn’t there something about ‘free champagne’ that just draws you in every time? The art auction was hilarious because it wasn’t really an auction at all. I’m used to antique auctions where the auctioneer is one of those guys with the incredible patter and it’s worth going just for the excitement. But the cruise ship auctioneer was very obviously not schooled in auction patter and the auction went like this:

Art Lady: This painting by this guy who did a lot of trees is valued at $111 000. Do I hear $50 000? No? All right Marco, put it back in the gallery. Now it’s time for the mystery painting! It is also trees, but it’s by a different guy and THAT’S the mystery!

The most expensive thing I saw get bought was a resin pig. It went for $3000 and everyone in the audience cheered and clapped for the guy, who was super-old and with a very young blonde woman that Ken insisted was his daughter. He assumed that because she called the old guy “Daddy” and I was like “Dude, you’re so naïve.”

At any rate, we sat through the auction next to a woman wearing a mask who kept taking off the mask to cough phlegmatically and blow her nose noisily then either fell asleep or died, but I’m not sure which, because we left right after the resin pig.

And things finally got back to normal and everything was good and covid-free until three nights ago, when Atlas ran in the bedroom and immediately jumped up on the bed and wouldn’t look at me…

Me: Hey bud—OMG WHAT IS THAT SMELL?!! KEN!!!

Yes, he got sprayed by a skunk AGAIN. That’s five times in the last three months. Luckily, Ken has a very good de-skunk concoction and we got Atlas before it had really soaked in. So Ken set up the live trap, and on Saturday morning, he called me outside:

Ken: There’s something in the trap.
Me: Is it the skunk? Please let it be the skunk!
Ken: Nope. But it’s very pissed off.

It was a possum. And it was the most annoyed and embarrassed possum I’ve ever seen, like it couldn’t believe it fell for the old peanut butter and cat food trick. But we like possums and they don’t stink, so we opened the trap and left it alone to make its way back to its possum home. Safe travels, little guy, and if you see the skunk, tell him how good that peanut butter and cat food tasted.

37 thoughts on “Playing Possum”

  2. Oh, the allure of a cruise! Picture it: endless buffets, exotic destinations, and that tantalizing notion of “free alcohol” they keep flaunting like a shiny lure for fun-loving fish. But here’s the twist: my dear wife, an extraordinary woman with an autistic mind as brilliant as a polished diamond, has a passionate love affair with solid ground. Darling prefers her world predictable, thank you very much, and decidedly not heaving through waves. Who can blame her? The ground doesn’t play games with your equilibrium.

    Now, don’t get me wrong, I’ve daydreamed about sashaying around a cruise ship decked in my finest, a glass of something bubbly in hand. But reality check: I’d probably be sipping on a Coca-Cola, my loyal old pal. Seriously, do these cruise people understand the unadulterated joy of unlimited fizzy sweetness? Are they aware there’s a devout following for whom a frosty Coke is the nectar of the gods? They should put THAT in bold on their brochures: “Come aboard for your unlimited supply of Coca-Cola!” Watch me perform a one-woman stampede to that ship!

    So, here’s my master plan: I might negotiate a little solo cruise escapade, a brief hiatus on the high seas. In exchange, my beloved gets the keys to our truck. Yes, the truck. That sturdy, reliable, and hugely impractical red beast is practically a family member. She adores it almost as much as her MacBook (another story for another day).

    Picture her face lighting up at the prospect: “You, my dear, get full, undisputed reign over the truck. Drive to your heart’s content! Visit every library, grocery store, and comic book shop in a 100-mile radius!” I can see it now, her embarking on serene local adventures while I’m wrestling with the moral dilemma of whether one can wear a bathing suit to a formal dinner. Fair’s fair, right?

    In the end, we’d both be diving into our own versions of paradise. Hers, predictably terrestrial and delightfully routine. Mine, possibly seasick but hey, adventurously carbonated! So, dear cruise lords, if you’re listening: secure my Coca-Cola fountain of youth, and prepare a gangway. I’m about to come aboard!

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  3. Pingback: Playing Possum | Ned Hamson's Second Line View of the News

  5. I once went to an auction where someone would carry around the paintings so people could get a closer look at them. If someone wanted a look they could say “Runner!” and the guy would come to them. Then they brought out a blank canvas so people could bid on getting a custom painting. And someone said “Runner!” Everyone laughed as the guy carried around the canvas.
    Possums really are cool little critters—where would we be without Pogo?—but I’m glad Atlas wasn’t the one who caught it. They’re best enjoyed from a distance.

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    • They kind of had runners at this one–guys who would check to see who might be bidding and then would go over and whisper intently as if pressuring people to bid. I just kept drinking my champagne and tried not to make eye contact lol!

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  6. Our Labrador Retriever whined at the sliding door and ran into the night when we opened it. We flipped the spotlight on and spied her nosing something in a pile between some ferns that spread beneath a tall Sitka Spruce. Curious, I stepped out to investigate. Something gray-white lay looking dead, its long rat-tail repulsive in the glare of the spotlights. Our dog nosed it over and over, lost interest and disappeared into the shadows. The possum lay there untwitching, mouth agape, eyes glazed. I stepped back to the porch and waited. A few minutes passed. The dog remained out in the dark patrolling the perimeter. Beneath the spruce, the creature scrambled to its feet, shook of its shroud of death and ambled through a gap in the fence, vanishing from sight.

    Daylight champagne give me a headache.

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  7. That woman with the mask reminds me of the time Nate, Alex, and I got on a plane, when masks were still required for flying, and the guy sitting on the aisle, right next to Nate, kept taking his mask off to cough! Isn’t that what the mask is for? To catch everything? I’m so sorry Atlas got sprayed again, though. He might make friends with the possum? To keep the skunk in line?

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  8. GJ's avatar GJ says:

    Does Ken have a recipe for his skunk remedy you can share? In America a spray is sold on TV infomercials and also available at Amazon. Marketed as POOPH, a pet odor & stain eliminator. I bought a spray bottle to have it handy because there is a family of skunks living under a nearby vacant house. I hope I never need it but would also like to see what Ken uses.Thanks.

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    • It’s this: Mix 3 to 4 parts 3% hydrogen peroxide to 1 part baking soda, along with a teaspoon or so of dish detergent, and apply the mixture to your dog while it’s still bubbling.

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      • GJ's avatar GJ says:

        Thank you. I have been reading your blogs since your comment 8 years ago, in the Bloggess listed your blog address mentioning your first cruise because we have also taken 3 cruises on the Star, never with a butler, though. Tell Ken I appreciate this recipe and hope I never need to use it. But I do not like living so close to an entire family of skunks. What tattoo did you get for your book, Smile?

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  11. No wonder Ken came down with Covid – the woman clearly didn’t understand the point of wearing a mask. I’m glad it’s a mild case. And possums. They used to climb through my cat-door and eat the catfood. Lol. Thanks for letting it go free.

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