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I learned one thing never punt a opossum. Our ****bag neighbors moved out left their cat and dogs in a kennel. The dogs died and the cat took up residence in my garage. I would get big 50 lb bags of cat food, cut the top open feed the new resident as needed. OK the new garage cat was a 20 plus pound Mainecoon and he ate a lot. One day the bag of food was moving so I reached in scuffed the cat jerked him out and held him up about a foot from my face to let him know that wasn't approved behavior. The problem is it wasn't the cat but a full grown opossum, as I did the first thing that came to my feeble mind and drop kicked him. If you have never drop kicked 20 pounds or so let me tell you it felt like my hip dislocated. It bounced off the garage door and then ran to the back corner of the garage, where he was promptly terminated. The second lesson I learned is that upon death a opossum is like Dr. Who's Tardis and is bigger on the inside. Yes it left about three times it body weight in excrement.
 

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Discussion Starter · #23 ·
I learned one thing never punt a opossum. Our sh×÷$ag neighbors moved out left their cat and dogs in a kennel. The dogs died and the cat took up residence in my garage. I would get big 50 lb bags of cat food, cut the top open feed the new resident as needed. OK the new garage cat was a 20 plus pound Mainecoon and he ate a lot. One day the bag of food was moving so I reached in scuffed the cat jerked him out and held him up about a foot from my face to let him know that wasn't approved behavior. The problem is it wasn't the cat but a full grown opossum, as I did the first thing that came to my feeble mind and drop kicked him. If you have never drop kicked 20 pounds or so let me tell you it felt like my hip dislocated. It bounced off the garage door and then ran to the back corner of the garage, where he was promptly terminated. The second lesson I learned is that upon death a opossum is like Dr. Who's Tardis and is bigger on the inside. Yes it left about three times it body weight in excrement.
I was in Alabama once for work. Hit one of those things in my shiny new Hertz rental car. I’d never seen one before. Didn’t kill it, it was all stuck up inside the wheel well. I just about peed myself when I looked up in there. He was some kind of ugly, nothing but teeth and that damn tail, hissing at me, thrashing around. Wasn’t going to stick my arm up in there to try to get him out. He must’ve not been hurt bad, after a couple minutes he got untangled and ran off.
 

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Another thing I learned is opossum biscuits and gravy will land you in HR at work.
I had a friend ask me to shoot some ground hogs off his farm, so 7 fell and I made up a batch of ground hog BBQ, froze it so I could bring it to work for ground hog day. Had a larger galatanious sack of goo have 3 helpings after I told him what it was. He gave me the finger and waddled off.
Next was racoon stew, again he ate enough after I told him what it was to feed 4 or 5 third world countries for a week.
Last came opossum biscuits and gravy. Again I told him what is wad and he ate enough to support an infantry platoon for a month. This time I had poloroids ( yes I am that old) of the dead grinders in various stages of undress. Yep right to HR he went.
 

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Caught a possum in a live trap once on accident, I was trying to catch feral cats and didn't even know we had possum in the area. I hauled his butt way out to the back of the property in the cage and when I tried to turn him loose, the little bastard turned on me and starting hissing, stepping forward and showing teeth... I am too old to run so I drew and I proceeded to inform him he had about a second to live... I swear he understood me... or he didn't like looking down that barrel... either way, he shut up, turned, and walked away. And I thought my wife was bad tempered...
 

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Discussion Starter · #28 ·
Caught a possum in a live trap once on accident, I was trying to catch feral cats and didn't even know we had possum in the area. I hauled his butt way out to the back of the property in the cage and when I tried to turn him loose, the little bastard turned on me and starting hissing, stepping forward and showing teeth... I am too old to run so I drew and I proceeded to inform him he had about a second to live... I swear he understood me... or he didn't like looking down that barrel... either way, he shut up, turned, and walked away. I thought my wife was bad tempered...
They just don’t look like they should live in North America. Madagascar maybe, but not right outside Birmingham Alabama.
 

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If you can get past the eyes, the pointy teeth and rancid smell. They are not bad eating. A nice white meat similar to pork.
I spent a lot of time with a grandmother who survived Hitlers camp and the other a widow thru the depression. One even had a depression cookbook with recipes for chipmunk and that book is still on my book shelf.
If it was shot, trapped or bludgeoned it was fair game for dinner.
 

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Discussion Starter · #31 ·
If you can get past the eyes, the pointy teeth and rancid smell. They are not bad eating. A nice white meat similar to pork.
I spent a lot of time with a grandmother who survived Hitlers camp and the other a widow thru the depression. One even had a depression cookbook with recipes for chipmunk and that book is still on my book shelf.
If it was shot, trapped or bludgeoned it was fair game for dinner.
Well, maybe I’ll let you know how pika tastes someday.
 

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I had a small rabbit run into the garage once. I tried to get him out but he ran behind a stack of plywood. I got him near the edge and shot him with the pellet gun. It proceeded to flop around over my wood and garage floor bleeding. What a mess.
 

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I have a few personal anecdotes.

One that readily comes to minds regarding rats... I used to have a used car/tandem trailer business in the Heights, in Houston. Corner of 14th and N. Durham. God knows what's there nowdays. Anyway, the place was rented, and it had a little shop in the back that was infested with what they call wharf rats, I think. The size of an average house cat, but with short legs. And not cute at all. Just mangy and disgusting and they smell like rank old pee.

Well, I had a 'new to me' pickup, a 1986 GMC pickup, single cab, diesel. It was a cream puff. I had just had it painted and everything on it serviced. I was leaving for the day, parked the truck outside the pipe fence while I locked up. Went to lock the shop and a big old rat ran out, right past me. I tried kicking it but missed by a mile. Didn't see where it went, I figured under a car. So I crank up the pickup, drive the 40 miles home, and park and am in for the night.

I wake up at about 2 a.m. to the sound of crashing, thrashing, the cat screeching, things breaking. I was involved in a relationship, shall we say, and I was..... 'in the altogether'. We both were, as we had been asleep. I thought someone was breaking in the sliding patio door, I could hear the vertical blinds thrashing around. So I grab my pistol and tear down the hall, followed by my significant other. Both nekkid. Get out to the kitchen area---no burglar. But the cat is going insane attacking something behind the vertical blinds. I get over and whip back the blinds---and y'all, it's a rat. A wharf rat the size of my cat. She's freaking, attacking it and springing back and running in circles and attacking again. She clearly doesn't know what to do. Attack or run. So I lay the pistol down and whip the blinds back and pull the door open. But the rat doesn't run out. It runs further back into the kitchen. So the cat goes after it, boyfriend grabs a broom, and I'm looking for something to use as a weapon too. The cat is screaming, boyfriend is screaming at me to do this or that, I'm screaming 'he's over there! over there!' and boyfriend is going the totally wrong way.

This pandelerium goes on for a solid five minutes before boyfriend runs the rat back my way and I used a painting off the wall as a barricade to deflect it out the door. Finally, it flew out the door and into the dark.

Meanwhile, the light had come on next door, in their kitchen, and the miniblinds were moving around. And we're nekkid, running around screaming, the door's vertical blinds are thrashing in all directions, boyfriend flailing a broom while my cat screeches and yowls very, very loudly.

Once it was gone and we calmed down and put on bathrobes, I realized it was the rat from the shop. It must have run out by the road where my pickup was parked and got up under it and rode home with me. We never had rats of any kind there, never. Just little field mice. Never a rat, and certainly not a wharf rat.

And I avoided the neighbors for a long time.
 

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I was at the grocery store tonite and had just put stuff in car. Had to wait for wife who forgot something. I watched this family with small kids get out of a Jetta next to me. As I sat there I notice what I thought were flies in the car on the windshield. So I walked around the Jetta and looked and it was roaches. They were everywhere. Front dash, all the windows and the back seat where the car seats were. Showed then to a guy who just pulled up next to car. He was grossed out but he took a video. So nasty.
 

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Then there was the time I was letting a puppy out to pee late one night. On the back porch I had a bench right beside the door. We also had cats at the time, sort of white and brown siamese looking cats, and they often slept on the bench.

I was standing sleepily in the doorway, watching the puppy out in the yard, waiting for her to do her business. I'm watching her, but in my peripheral vision I see one of the white siamese cats sitting on the bench right beside me. I absent mindedly reach down to pet the cat while I'm standing there, watching the puppy.

But the cat doesn't feel right. It feels rough, not silky. Kind of coarse fur, not the near velvet softness I was used to. So I looked down and a possum was staring up at me, quite contentedly getting the back of his/her neck petted.

I screamed and jumped straight up in the air and the possum took off like a shot.
 

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Discussion Starter · #36 ·
I have a few personal anecdotes.

One that readily comes to minds regarding rats... I used to have a used car/tandem trailer business in the Heights, in Houston. Corner of 14th and N. Durham. God knows what's there nowdays. Anyway, the place was rented, and it had a little shop in the back that was infested with what they call wharf rats, I think. The size of an average house cat, but with short legs. And not cute at all. Just mangy and disgusting and they smell like rank old pee.

Well, I had a 'new to me' pickup, a 1986 GMC pickup, single cab, diesel. It was a cream puff. I had just had it painted and everything on it serviced. I was leaving for the day, parked the truck outside the pipe fence while I locked up. Went to lock the shop and a big old rat ran out, right past me. I tried kicking it but missed by a mile. Didn't see where it went, I figured under a car. So I crank up the pickup, drive the 40 miles home, and park and am in for the night.

I wake up at about 2 a.m. to the sound of crashing, thrashing, the cat screeching, things breaking. I was involved in a relationship, shall we say, and I was..... 'in the altogether'. We both were, as we had been asleep. I thought someone was breaking in the sliding patio door, I could hear the vertical blinds thrashing around. So I grab my pistol and tear down the hall, followed by my significant other. Both nekkid. Get out to the kitchen area---no burglar. But the cat is going insane attacking something behind the vertical blinds. I get over and whip back the blinds---and y'all, it's a rat. A wharf rat the size of my cat. She's freaking, attacking it and springing back and running in circles and attacking again. She clearly doesn't know what to do. Attack or run. So I lay the pistol down and whip the blinds back and pull the door open. But the rat doesn't run out. It runs further back into the kitchen. So the cat goes after it, boyfriend grabs a broom, and I'm looking for something to use as a weapon too. The cat is screaming, boyfriend is screaming at me to do this or that, I'm screaming 'he's over there! over there!' and boyfriend is going the totally wrong way.

This pandelerium goes on for a solid five minutes before boyfriend runs the rat back my way and I used a painting off the wall as a barricade to deflect it out the door. Finally, it flew out the door and into the dark.

Meanwhile, the light had come on next door, in their kitchen, and the miniblinds were moving around. And we're nekkid, running around screaming, the door's vertical blinds are thrashing in all directions, boyfriend flailing a broom while my cat screeches and yowls very, very loudly.

Once it was gone and we calmed down and put on bathrobes, I realized it was the rat from the shop. It must have run out by the road where my pickup was parked and got up under it and rode home with me. We never had rats of any kind there, never. Just little field mice. Never a rat, and certainly not a wharf rat.

And I avoided the neighbors for a long time.
OK, that’s funnier than my story.
 

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I worked at a grain CO-OP and they talked about the rats. One time the exterminator was climbing the ladder from the basement and a rat crawled down and over him to get down. He followed it back down killed it and stuffed it.

Then bombed the place with gas.

They would go down the next day and scoop them into buckets and take them out.

I hope they cook your cornflakes. Because they cleaned out the rats and used fumitoxin for the bugs.
 

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Growing up on the farm, we went out every year and found a tree for Christmas. You remember the squirrel in Christmas Vacation.

Well we had a mouse we brought in one year. The bastard ran down the tree, across my feet, partially up the right leg and back up into the tree. I had a robe on.

We got a cat and put it under the tree. The cat saw the mouse and didn't move until it came back down. Then we let them both outside.
 

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Just about rolled on the floor over some of these stories :) Right after we moved here, me a city girl had never seen an opossum. I thought it was a contraction of "Old possum." One night I hear something outside and go to tell the local raccoons that there is no order available for them please drive up to the next window.

I look down and there's this little doe-eyed thing staring in the window. We stood there frozen, both I'm sure wondering "What in Hades is that thing?" Then one of the feral cats in the neighborhood took a running leap off the fence at it. I don't know who screamed louder, the juvenile opossum, me who saw the teeth on that little creature, or the cat who thought he was bagging the biggest Norway rat of his career until he was in midair and got a good look.
 
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