Some months ago, after feeling helpless to stop the local crows from attacking possums, my son and I phoned around to get the measurements of a possum box. We live in the city, and there are no old growth trees for animals to nest in. You'll find families of little possums trying to nest at the top of date palm trees, or in roofs. We finally found the information, and my son went to the local hardware store, and asked them to cut chipboard to size for 2 boxes. The man in the store obliged him, thank goodness. Then he remembered a friend's father who has a saw that cuts holes (I can't remember the term). We fronted there, and he kindly cut holes in two pieces for us. At home, we constructed two boxes. Two adults with ADD and poor co-ordination came out of that experience with new respect for each other, but not necessarily liking each other for a while! lol We gave one box to a neighbour (I don't know if he's used it) and we tried to get ours in place in our macadamia tree. Yet another challenge to our relationship, as we don't own a ladder. Finally I managed to balance on a chair, and tie the thing in a clumsy fashion with unwrapped wire coathangers. It sits okay, but I'm sure it's not all that secure.

WELL... yesterday I thought I saw some movement inside when a magpie landed on the branch and squawked at something (they must hate possums, too!) I wasn't sure if I imagined it or not, and my son and I resisted the awful temptation to look. We did go a bit too close. Last night, I left a peeled banana on the branch right outside the box. This morning it was gone. That doesn't mean much, as we've left food for the possums before, but I went back to leave a couple of dry wholemeal crackers from some stale ones I found in the cupboard. I startled an unnoticed bird, which took off with a great flap, and as I was laying the biscuits on the branch, a little face appeared in the circular hole in the box! It was a sleepy possum! (They're nocturnal, of course.) I couldn't have been more delighted, but I was afraid of frightening it, so I walked away, making calming noises. Its location is not very high off the ground, and it is still vulnerable, but it is invisible during the day if it's sleeping, and if it cared to fight back, I'm sure it could defend itself from inside its little home. I'm absolutely thrilled! I have possums!

Oh, how absolutely delightful!

I just loved your descriptions here - father and son building life-long memories!

I well remember the joey I handreared while at primary school. I used to keep it in my desk during the day, as I had to feed it with an eye-dropper.
One of the most delightful pets I ever owned.

So happy u got possums!!

Ah, Zita! I see I'm going to have to stop writing in such a deep voice. You're the second person in recent times who thought I was a bloke! Mother and son were building lifelong memories, I'm afraid! lol But I'm glad you know the excited feeling. Were you in NZ when you raised the joey? What were the circumstances that led to you doing that? I'd LOVE to have a kangaroo!

Hi Y'll

Great to hear the possum stories. When we lived 50 miles above Mobile Alabama on the Gulf Coast of the USA. One night our three dogs barked all night. We had a large celeste fig bush near the kitchen window. A possum had decided to enter the fence and cross the yard and snack on some figs by moonlight.

Our three dogs were not Andy Williams fans by any means. They were not singing "Moon River" to mister snack by night at all. Shut up they would not, for love, nor money, or dire grumblings from our open bedroom window. So from 03:00 - 05:00 we were seranaded, till we all went out to see what was going on.

Our son Joel had this habit of going snake hunting (which Linda & I both tried in vain to desuade him of), and had a hoe handle studded with large fence staples 1/2 pounded into to it in 4 - 5 places in a sreight line to allow a plastic coated braided wire to serve as a flexible noose on the end.

We caught the possum with it from the top of the fig tree (where it "played dead") as hard as it could & held on with it's tail as hard as it could. Wearing my heaviest welding gloves carried it down past the barn to be set free on top of an old shed below the barn.

BTW a large female diamondback rattlesnake, finally convinced Joel he really really wanted to quit catching snakes. She would have nailed him if the dogs and a cat or two had not divided her attention, plus being full of eggs. she was nearly 6 feet long (1 2/3 meters) and her head was as broad as my hand (4 inches or 10 cm).

That close brush with almost getting bit, really changed his attitude. When we told him that armidillos often carried leprosy, he quit catching them too. If that boy could chase it & catch it, he brought it home to show us - stinkier the better.

Hope your possums have a more sedate life than critters around Joel did.

[ January 13, 2002: Message edited by: Edward F Sutton ]

Ed, your Joel reminds me of two Adventist kids I knew who went to school with my son. They lived a long way out of town, and trekked through places I wouldn't have gone without a compass and a week's supply of food. Their mother told me that one day, they caught a six foot long goanna! Now, I'm not sure if you have an equivalent lizard in your country, but a goanna is a streamlined missile of muscle, with very sharp teeth at one end, and a disposition to operate said teeth. If startled, they will chase you. These kids arrived home with a hessian bag full of goanna, and no-one knew quite how to get the thing out of the bag and maintain the same finger count throughout. Eventually, the oldest child - a boy of about twelve - grabbed the poor goanna around the neck. After a flurry of activity that his mother wanted no involvement with, he had it tied by the front and back legs and hanging over a large stick like they do in the old safari movies. He and his sister - aged 10 - each put one end of the stick on their shoulder, and marched off into the bush to set Mr goanna free.

I went out to put some fruit in the tree tonight, and I took the torch. A tiny face popped up. It was a baby possum, and must have been standing on its mother's back. My joy is complete.

I will definitly leave Mr goanna ALONE. Being a Shriner's kid I am all thumbs & two left feet. Cerebral Palsy God gave just enough grace & help to make me seem fairly normal.

However BTW how much does Mr goanna charge to intercept telemarketing calls when I am in the shower or getting ready for work ?

I guess Mr goanna is one fast rascal.

I remember Joel finding one very scared new little fawn, just seconds before a very hungrey dog could get to him. we drove around & finally found a lady who had raised orphaned fawns before. She had the milk replacer powder & extra tiny bottles & everything. I never knew how it turned out, can only hope.

[ January 14, 2002: Message edited by: Edward F Sutton ]

Good thinking, Ed. A goanna can outrun a man over a short distance. They aren't aggressive unless threatened or harrassed, but there's just no way to explain if you didn't mean it! lol And you can't take refuge in a tree. They climb trees all the time.

The fawn would have been gorgeous! Bambi! We have no wild deer in this country. Once when I was a little girl, my parents and I were driving in the country. We found a baby lamb - newborn - that had strayed onto the highway. We couldn't see any herds of sheep, so we took it home. At the time, my mother was babysitting, and we had a baby's bottle of milk with us. Guess who got it?

We named it "Lambekins" - okay, no imagination! - and we had him until he was quite big. But if you know anything about sheep, you'll know that rams are almost as aggressive as goannas - even when unprovoked! And they have big twisty horns. We eventually had to send a rather inappropriately-named ram to a farm. I think they lied to me when they said he wouldn't be eaten. Poor old thing. To add insult to injury, at the time we had an Australian Blue Heeler dog, named "Beans". Okay, names were not a thing we were good at. During Lambekin's time with us, Beans chewed off his ears. One at a time. You see, sheep don't ever complain, and Lambekins was silent throughout both ordeals.

Sounds like beans should have tried picking on my cat "Atomic" or "Tom" for short. I called him that because he had so much energy. Unless beans was a good fighter tom would have made a humble dog out of him. Nice affectionate cat but he could really put a pooch in his place.

He was really good at hide & seek, hanging on screen doors and begging for food, after he had just ate one house down from there. He would challenge the dogs for their dinner bowl & usually get extra food.

When I was little I would get in trouble for sneaking into my lap at the table & he would help me eat cereal from my bowl (we would always get caught with milk ear to ear punctuated by big 5yr old grins at what we were up to.) Oh well Tom was still living @ 23 yrs old. Seems forever ago.

23 years! Wow! Get me some of that cereal!