When I headed out to lock up the chickens for the night, there was a young rooster sitting outside the coop. Weird. I gathered him up and placed him in the west coop, and locked the door. I then went to swing the door of the east coop, when I heard one of the senior hens talking - something was not right.
I peeked my head in the door, and by the light of the full moon I could see the ass end of a very large possum, hanging out of a nest box.
When my polite requests to leave were ignored, I found a large stick and attempted to gently encourage him to relocate. Wanting to be able to see exactly where he went, assuming he would leave, I searched my pockets for my cell phone to use as a light. Nothing. Well, two bottles of nail polish, a box cutter and the lighter I use to start the wood stove, but no cell phone. I decided the lighter would suffice; I held it in my left hand while steadily applying pressure to the possum, but the possum refused to evacuate, and by the time the burn on my thumb upgraded from first to second degree, I decided to just leave him alone for a bit; maybe he would leave after I did.
I was nearly half way to the house when I noticed the ever-so- slight wafting of a skunk. By the time I rounded the corner of the front yard, it was full blown ... and there on the porch sat the dog, shaking her head and quietly pleading for help. This would explain why she wasn't in on the possum extraction - she was otherwise occupied.
We got the dog to the bathroom and sponged her off, but realized the smell was not coming directly from her. It seems the skunk had made it under the front porch before opening fire - which is great, for the dog. Anyone wanting to enter or exit the house for the next few days - not so much.
I grabbed a broom and headed back out, hopeful Mr. O'Possum would have gone on his way. I forgot to grab the dang flashlight, but the lighter had cooled off by then, so I fired it up - and there he was, still curled up in the nest box, looking a little disappointed by my return.
With the aide of the broom, I was able to work him half way out of the box, the waited. He paused for a moment (I have found possums aren't generally in too much of a hurry to do anything, and this one was no exception), then climbed his way down and waddled his way out of the coop.
I secured the coop and made my way back to the house, making sure to hold my breath as I approached the porch. While I truly do have an appreciation for wildlife, sometimes I think I'd appreciate a life that was a little less wild.
(BTW - this is not the trespassing possum, it's a photo I took a while back, and I happen to find this guy or gal) much more enduring.