Alexandersmap

    Tag: Opossums

    • Playing Possum

      Last night I got to experience something for the very first time. The pup, now eight months old and keenly observant of all that moves in her kingdom, spotted an opossum nibbling on fallen birdseed a second before me. It seems opossums don’t run nearly as fast as an excited mutt. The gap was closed in an instant and the pup was on top of the opossum before I could reach her. Sure enough, the opossum looked like road kill with its tongue halfway out the mouth and twisted oddly out of wack. It looked like a crime scene minus the blood. The dog thankfully lost interest right away and began sniffing around for something else nearly as exciting. Suspecting our newfound neighbor was faking it, I got the dog inside the house and took her for a walk on the street instead. After the walk I took the flashlight out to investigate and sure enough, the opossum had awoken from its tonic immobility and moved on to safer places.

      Tonic immobility is an automatic reflex to high stress situations. It’s playing dead, but without the playing. The opossum wasn’t just lying there with its eyes closed and mouth open, it was unconscious for a period of time to allow the danger to disappear. Puppies like squeaky toys. When the toy didn’t squeak the pup looked for something more fun to chase. The Wikipedia link above is informative, and points to all sorts of creatures who go into a state of tonic immobility when they’re stressed.

      Humans can also reach a similar state when fainting. I once watched a bridesmaid faint in the middle of a ceremony on the beach just as the happy couple were about to say “I do”. I watched a groom faint in the middle of his own vows at a different wedding ceremony. It seems weddings are high-stress environments for some humans. I’ve never seen anyone playing dead at a wedding, but I’ve witnessed some marriages that were dead on arrival.

      Fainting may make the problem go away, but usually not. When we are in extremely stressful situations we ought to stay conscious. We ought to keep our wits about us, as the saying goes. Slow, deep breaths help greatly to calm us down, but it’s a hard state to achieve when you’re being chased by a bear or are experiencing something equally catastrophic. Being more resilient through practiced breathing may help, and thinking through what we might do in the worst case scenarios is likely our best option. When it feels like it’s not our first rodeo, we’re less likely to be frozen immobile when things are turned upside down.

      This morning I turned on the outdoor spotlights, looked around and then waited a beat before opening the door. If dogs could roll their eyes at their humans I’m sure that’s what the pup would have done to me in the moment. I smiled at her and let her out to chase her own dreams with a bit of assurance that the scene would be a little better than last night. One crime scene per week is my limit.

    • A Pair of Opossums Enter the Scene

      I have two neighbors I’ve only seen once, just the other day from an upstairs window overlooking the backyard and the woods beyond. At the edge of the woods there’s a chain link fence that once occasionally held the dog in and now defines the wild from the manicured backyard I wrestle with endlessly. It seems at some point a couple moved into the vacant (of humans anyway) part of my yard that lies beyond the fence. A pair of opossums entered the scene and I can’t stop thinking about the new neighbors.

      I watched them, deep in opossum couple conversation, climb over the old stone wall that marks time in centuries, linger at the gnarled roots of a red maple and slowly make their way into the pile of brush piled just on the other side of the fence. It seems this is the ideal love nest for this pair, and they’re likely doing their business of creating the next generation of opossums as I write. I don’t mind, we can use all the tick and bug eaters we can get around here. I can do without the chipmunks and the groundhog that nibbles on my sweet potato vines and tomatoes, but the opossums are okay in my book. Keep gobbling up those ticks and we’ll be fast friends.

      Funny thing about opossums, the males are called Jacks and the females Jills. Their offspring are called Joeys. They’re nocturnal and generally transient animals, unless they find some cushy love nest anyway. Some people call me Jack, but nobody would call me nocturnal. But we all have our time, and Jack and Jill can have the night. We can say hello during the morning shift change. Hello, Jack! Hello Jack and Jill! And Joey, and Joey, and Joey… but I digress. Opossums have a way of distracting me with their delightfully different vibe.

      Which brings me to the elephant in the room: That silent O in opossum. Who’s idea was it to drop that in there anyway? I complain about learning French, but English is no picnic either. Silent O indeed. It’s my native language and I’m still inclined to start saying “O” when I read the word. Who made these rules anyway? Someone who thought about how delightful it would be to screw with the world for generations. Probably someone named Jack. Or Jill. You know they’re the troublemakers… unlike our friends the opossums.