Of Dogs and Possums: Part 2

(Photos by SCB)

The Pokey Possum

After my old dog, Trevor, had his unfortunate encounter with a possum, I was leery of them for a long time, and tried to ensure that none of my other animals would ever encounter one.  Unfortunately, one winter day Prince decided otherwise.

A rather large possum  (pictured above) had, for some unfathomable reason, decided to make its new home near the side of our shed.  Whether it was broad daylight or night time, it refused to budge, and no amount of yelling, stomping our feet or throwing objects around could convince it to change its mind.  Then came the morning when I was desperate to take Prince out and, not willing to have the possum get hurt, I decided to take him out on a regular leash.

It was the most disastrous decision I had ever made with him.

The instant Prince came out into the yard, his head lifted as he sensed the presence of something new.  One second later, he saw the possum and took off toward it.  I braced myself against his pull...and found myself flying through the air after him, unable to even slow the impetus of his rush toward it.

For several terrifying, helpless seconds I flew along behind him, screeching at him ineffectually.  Then I slammed into a tree headfirst, dropping the leash and going down on my knees as Prince hit the fence.

Prince relaxing after possum hunting

I've  heard it said that possums never move quickly, but I found out in that moment this was patently untrue. The possum moved so fast he seemed to disappear into thin air...leaving Prince barking after him in rage and myself on the ground, holding onto my head in agony.

I didn't speak to Prince for the rest of the day.  Later that night, when the possum came back, a friend helped us trap it and move it to another location far away, from whence it would never return.

I have never since then attempted to hold onto Prince when he was going after anything in the backyard.  I figure our backyard visitors will just have to fend for themselves...and they do.  Possums can actually move a lot faster than most people think they can...they just need the right impetus to get going.  And Prince is definitely that impetus.

Of Dogs and Possums: Part 1

Many years ago, I owned a mixed breed German Shepherd/Collie/Labrador named Trevor.  Trevor had a long list of behavioral challenges, but the one that got him into trouble the most frequently was his avid pursuit of wildlife that wandered into our yard.  Trevor knew no fear...until he pushed his prey just a little too far, and it retaliated against him.  One of the unlikely victims in this scenario was a possum.

There have always been a lot of possums in the area in which I live, and the time when I had Trevor was no exception.  I would find possums of all sizes in my yard both in the daytime and the night time.  When I asked a local wildlife official what I should do about them, as my dog seemed far too excited to see them, he said possums never go anywhere in a hurry...and he was right.  The time Trevor caught one was no exception.

Possums look mean...and, when it came to Trevor, I found out they actually are mean.  On this particular evening, I let him outside and he happened to find one near the edge of my yard, under my apple tree.  I think he was under the impression when he attacked it that it would be an easy victim...but he turned out to be tragically wrong.  As soon as he went after it, the possum leaped into the air and grabbed a hold of his muzzle with his teeth.

Thereafter followed a horrifying period of time (which probably lasted seconds, but seemed to last for an hour) wherein Trevor screamed and swung his head back and forth, and the possum held on.  I ran toward them, shouting (thinking maybe if I pulled Trevor away, the possum would let go) and as it caught sight of me, it suddenly did and fell on the ground in a dead faint.

I actually thought Trevor had killed it.  After carefully examining him (there was no blood!) and putting him inside, I returned with a flashlight to check on the possum.  He was still out cold, stretched out on his back in what appeared to be a dead faint.  I was afraid to touch him, but I shouted at him and picked up a broom and gently nudged him with it...to no avail.  Finally, I went back inside, resolving to go out and check on him again in half an hour.

This went on for an hour and a half...until I finally came out and found he had recovered and wandered away while I was inside.  Thankfully, he didn't leave any blood behind, either...yet he left me with a healthy respect for possums and a resolve never to let my dogs anywhere near them again.

As the years went on, many of my dogs would see possums and bark at them hysterically, but the possums never reacted.  They would simply stare at the dogs insolently, turn their backs or slowly plod away.  I believed what the wildlife official had told me...that there was no hurrying a possum...until Prince proved him wrong.

YouTube video of PrinceBlackstar!!

Prince and the Angry Skunk

Since we happen to live by a rather large wooded area, a variety of wild animals have walked past our yard and through it over the years, including raccoon, possums, deer, coyotes and, unfortunately, skunks.  One memorable summer evening, I was unlucky enough to let Prince out into the yard when one of the latter happened to be moseying along under our apple tree.

For years, I had been reading (and hearing) about other people's dogs' encounters with skunks, and had even looked up the recipe to get rid of the odor just in case it should happen to my dog.  Oddly enough, only a week earlier, a friend of my boyfriend's had been unlucky enough to have a skunk/dog encounter in his backyard, with the expected consequences.

Of course, as with everything else that happened with Prince, this, too, turned out to have an unexpected ending.

The instant I let Prince out in the yard, I sensed (or smelled?) that I had made a mistake of possibly epic proportions.  Prince, too, immediately realized that we had a visitor, but instead of displaying any prudence whatsoever, he went tearing after it, ignoring my screams of dismay.

Prince Contemplating His Good Luck

In the darkness, I could just make out Prince's silhouette as he landed on top of the skunk, and heard it snarl at him in a vicious manner.  I got ready to hold my breath, but the poor creature, obviously stunned by Prince's lack of respect for it (and perhaps by his size) never paused long enough to emit the slightest drop of skunk spray.  Instead, he fled for the fence, with Prince in hot pursuit, dove underneath it with a loud clanging noise and disappeared back into the forest, never to return.

Perhaps Prince just had a moment of exceptional luck, or maybe the skunk was simply too stunned by his audacity, but luck was certainly on his side that night.  I have, of course, exercised even more caution since that time when letting him out at night, and yes, I do still have the remedy to wash him in the event that he is not so lucky the next time.

Oddly enough, though, I have never had another skunk come into my yard...and hopefully never will.

Prince and the Construction Crew

Last summer, the city in which we live decided that some of the pipes under the sidewalk needed to be refitted (or replaced).  They subsequently sent out a crew of workers to dig them up and refit them...and the majority of the time, they worked in extremely close proximity to our house.

Prince and his big boy stick (branch?)

Being the friendly fellow that he is, Prince was delighted with all of the new company, and would bounce over to greet them each time they happened to pass by.  Not surprisingly, the crew was a lot less happy to see him.  Each time they walked by, they would cast rapid, uneasy glances in his direction, and then look at us as if seeking reassurance.  The foreman, especially, seemed acutely aware of the danger.

"He doesn't realize he could just step over that fence, does he?" he asked one day, as he passed by with a member of his crew.

"He's actually very friendly," I said...and received the usual highly skeptical look.

Then came the balmy summer afternoon when I took Prince on a walk through the park...and emerged from it to find 20 of the crew members directly in the path that we had to take home. Trying not to alarm them, I approached as slowly as possible...until one of them saw us coming and shouted a warning.

A special smile

"He's really very friendly," I said to the foreman, who gave me another disbelieving look before he slowly and gingerly offered his hand to Prince.  When Prince sniffed and then licked it, he stared at him in astonishment.

"He really is friendly," he said, in wonder.  He then directed us immediately toward the crew, several members of which were on their hands and knees on the sidewalk.

"Bite them right there," he told Prince, pointing at their backsides.  All of them immediately sat down.

"He's really very friendly," I repeated, but none of the rest of them seemed to believe me.  After passing through their midst, Prince and I reached the final obstacle...a man with a large truck parked directly on the sidewalk, who flung himself back in fear as we reached him.

"He's very friendly," I said again.

He, too, put out his hand...and then slowly smiled as Prince licked it.  "He's sure isn't like most German Shepherds I've met," he told me.

"Well, no," I admitted.  Because, of course, Prince isn't.

But sometimes that really is a good thing!