Possum love

Waking up to a sleeping baby and a surprise thunderstorm? On my day off? Now that’s what I’m talking about.

Sister Rach had an encounter with a opossum this week. In her new home turf of Portland, Ore., she was chillin’ with some neighbors when they saw a momma opossum, belly full o’ babies, waddling across the street. Talk about an impressive mother. I cannot imagine having five or six Julians stuffed in my belly at all hours of the day. She was probably on the move because her food source ran out or her home was destroyed, and all she was trying to do was replace them so she could take care of her babies. I think opossums are disgusting creatures, but as a mother, I most certainly can empathize. Rachel, who does not have children but does have a killer maternal instinct, got out in the middle of the road to stop traffic for her to cross, but she dropped one of her little possumettes in the chaos. Sleuth Russman did some detective work on the internet about orphaned opossums, so they took him in for the night, tried to give him some baby formula and keep him warm with water bottles. He just wanted the hell out, so he scratched all night on the box they put him in. They named him Oliver.

Russman was a little freaked by the wee vermin, as I would be. But that sweet Rachel, always taking care of the ones no one else wants to touch. She is the proverbial “hair holder.” Reminds me of this time in Spain when something I ate left me writhing on the bathroom floor. Guess who brought me a comforter and glasses of water and washed my sheets the next day? Like a new mom, she was up all night, feeding and fretting over the little guy. But she’d made a decision: raising this orphaned possum wasn’t an option. So she used the magic that is craigslist to find another home for him and the next day he was gone, just as quickly as he’d come.

When the time is right, however, these guys will make great parents. As long as they don’t keep the kid in a box stuffed with towels.