After a restless night in our house, in which Andrew took himself off to casualty at 1am because he felt like he was bleeding to death post-wisdom tooth removal, I got up to find a possum on the top shelf of the kitchen, pretending not to be there (hard when you're hiding behind a clear glass jug).
Picture me, standing on the kitchen benchtop in my work garb (heels and all), valiantly grabbing possum with a towel.
Possum rescue complete, I headed into the city for another thrilling day at work.
Gifts of the Season
4 days ago
1 comment:
Clever you — and it sounds as if you didn't even smash the glass jug. I remember at Burri we had possums that knew how to lift the wooden lid off the bread crock and steal the bread! I'm so glad you didn't get clawed, they can be a bit frantic when frightened.
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