Possum Blues

It seems like a small step in life management, but I have been trying to make sure I get my garbage out in time for collection every Tuesday and Friday. Last week I found a baby possum in one of the bins. I tipped it over and ran into the house in an (un)characteristic panic.

I am not sure why they scare the heck out of me. Maybe it is because my brother dragged me out of bed one night to see one he had shot with a cross bow. Those little red eyes, looking up at me as the thing passed to possum heaven. At least that was what I told myself. And one time, I found one in the pool, very stiff, very dead, eyes closed. And once I trapped one and let it go. As I total up the possum related events in my life, I decide it is just that they are sort of creepy. And the eye contact thing is sort of creepy.

So last Thursday afternoon, I came home ready to put some garbage out, but when I looked into the bin, the possum was back, only now, his eyes seemed crusted and dried up. I freaked. I had killed accidentally killed the baby possum!

My mind raced to make up some narrative, how I must have I set the bin upright and the little possum had returned and climbed in, couldn't get out and had died of the heat .. etc, etc..

Spiritually, it was on me and I was lathering up a lot of guilt around this.

But moreover, I now had a potentially disturbing, I mean totally disturbing, disposal problem. As I continued pondering the Karmic implications, I tried to think of people who might be willing to fish this dead possum out and bury it... maybe a viking funeral?? sky burial? I also thought of leaving it there to see how long it would take the beetles to...never mind, that's from watching CSI.

Today I returned from the Post Office and I thought I might/would check it out the bin again. I had missed the pick up on Friday and tomorrow is the next one. I was feeling hostage to this immovable, dead creature. Maybe if I just slide the bin out to the curb as is, the garbage men will take pity on me and toss him in the truck..? I also wanted to check out the odor situation...another factor influencing the choice of the person and or persons as yet unsolicited and unknown who might eventually help me out..

And damn.. either there are two possums, or the other was wasn't actually dead, or a second possum is eating the dead possum.. in any case, what ever.. I tipped the can over so that the red eyed guy, regardless of what else is happening in that bin, could escape... if he felt like it...

I really can't take this kind of pressure much longer.

In this new narrative development, I have conjured a slightly less guilty feeling , I mean well, what are the moral implications of accidentally killing a possum, any way ? If one of his own kind has come to eat him... that seems very cold... does that change my part in the death?Devora would maybe suggest that my actions have no relationship to the subsequent action of the possible cannibal possum and she would be right about that.

If I imagined the dead possum part, then I really need to get some rest, and probably stop watching The War.

At the very least, I am going to get some new lids for my garbage cans.