An Unwanted Passenger

So many of us think that living rural out on our own property is supposed to be an idyllic lifestyle. No close neighbors, No housing rules and restrictions, and no urban noises; it all seems perfect, right? There are some times, however, this near utopian setting throws us a curveball. There are times when rural living and raw, untamed nature collide. Recently, we had such an experience.

During this winter, we had a bad ice storm that was followed up by several inches of snow. Ice storms are not common in our area and this one was particularly bad. We knew as soon as we heard tree limbs begin to crack and fall we would soon be without power. Sure enough, later that evening on the first day of the storm, the power flickered once then went out. We didn’t know at the time it would remain out for 6 days. 

Power outages are inconvenient for us but fortunately are not critical for our survival. Our generator can run most of the house and our gas appliances can take care of the heat. The biggest concern is just keeping the generator full of gas and making sure it isn’t getting too wet from bad weather as it has to sit outside the garage doors so the exhaust does not fill the house.

On the morning of the 2nd day of the storm, I stepped outside to check on the generator and noticed a small possum huddled against the brick wall of our garage. He was enjoying the radiant heat from the brick as well as the warm of the exhaust from the generator. Possums and I have a non-aggression pact. If I don’t find them in my coop eating chickens, then they get to go in peace. If they are found inside our chicken run, then they end up having a very bad day and get to explore the compost bin from the bottom up. This guy was just hanging out and didn’t seem too concerned about me nor the loud roar of the generator.

I came back later that afternoon for another generator check  and to move Kelly’s car outside to make room in the garage for a project I was working on. I found the possum still hanging out but this time, he was a little closer to the garage door against the brick. “Must be trying to get warmer from the generator,” I thought to myself. I knelt down to get a closer look at him and even was able to stroke him behind the ears a couple times. He didn’t offer the typical possum hiss or try to get fluffed-up in defense like a cat. He appeared to enjoy the attention. I let him be and moved on about my day.

An hour later when I circled the house again, I noticed he was gone. I figured he moved one to find another place to spend the night. I would find out much later that I was correct in my thinking but was very, very far off in where I thought he would seek shelter.

Fast forward about 3 weeks and Kelly asks me if I smell a strange smell in our downstairs bathroom. Thinking this was an obvious setup (since she was standing in the bathroom), I only responded with, “I am not falling for that one…” 

She responded with a somewhat aggravated tone, “I am not like you boys. I am serious. There is an odd smell here.” I stepped into the room but could not detect an odor, an abnormal odor, anywhere. We both shrugged it off and moved on.

Later that week she brings it to my attention again. We both look around the bathroom for any evidence of something out of sorts. I even dropped to my knees to give the toilet base a sniff wondering if the wax ring had failed. Nothing. Neither of us could pinpoint the odor.

Fast forward three more weeks and we both noticed that from time to time the garage has a very strong and distinct smell. It was the smell of decay. From time to time, I might have a chicken egg that I accidentally left in a coat pocket. Thinking that might be the culprit, I search through all my coats and various outside apparel. We still cannot pinpoint it. One day we moved the car out to search more fervently – still nothing. 

That weekend, we found ourselves out for a drive and stopped by a highly recommended drive in restaurant to grab a bite to eat. As I get out of the car to place our order at the window, I catch a hint of the same smell we had in the garage. I thought it was odd but walked on to place the order. Upon returning the Kelly’s car, I reached for the door handle and I could feel the heat from the running vehicle rising up from underneath it. Accompanying that heat was a very potent smell of death. 

“We may have found our smell,” I told Kelly when I jumped back in the car. “I think there might be something dead in your engine compartment.”

When we returned home, Kelly glanced under the front of her car and gasped, “There is a tail hanging down from the engine area!” My immediate thought was one of our cats made the unfortunate mistake of hiding under the hood, but upon inspection I realized it wasn’t a cat tail hanging down. It was a possum tail.

It appears my little possum buddy must have crawled up inside Kelly’s car and hid between the engine and the skid plate on the bottom of the car. He may have been sickly or may have just wanted to hide somewhere. Either way, his choice led to his demise. Unfortunately, his removal was not so simple. I had to put the car on ramps and remove the skid plate so he could be extracted. Needless to say, laying on the ground underneath a car picking out pieces of a month-old possum corpse situated above my head was not a pleasant experience.

So at times, the symbiotic relationship between nature and the modern homesteader personify the beautiful dance of two willing partners as they spin and glide to the music of our creator. Other times, that relationship can personify a crazy girlfriend who leaves dead animals in your stuff…