Opossum Summer

One fine day in July I was sitting at my desk mining my own business and life was going along the way it had been.  My youngest daughter liked to spend the afternoons in her hammock and that's where she was on this particular day when she heard a strange sound.  Unbeknownst to me, she stopped reading her book and sat up to listen.  All the cats had gathered around the sound too and the dogs were starting to try to break through to find it as well.

The rather conspicuous walnut moth in caterpillar stage was creeping through our backyard this summer.  Weird things turn up all the time out here.

She burst through the door with a strange look on her face and said, "Mom......I hear something."  Unmoved, I asked, "what's it sound like?"  She wrinkled her eyebrows and said, "I think it's a baby opossum."  Now she had my attention.  How would she know what a baby opossum sounded like?  I was raised out here and I had no idea, so how would she know?  I dismissed her.  "No, it's probably just a cicada or a weird insect."  Only days before she had discovered an enormous caterpillar with spikes on it.  None of us had ever seen anything like it before, but unusual discoveries are pretty commonplace out here.  She planted her feet.  "No, mom, it's a baby opossum.  Please come and see."

As I rose from my chair the implications of her discovery were already hitting me.  Growing up on a farm we occasionally found baby wild things and even after a lot of work and care and they rarely survived.  I didn't want to spend the rest of my summer struggling to keep a critter alive, become fond of it and then have it die on me.  But, I couldn't say no to those big brown eyes begging me to come and see.

As I stepped outside I heard the sound she was describing.  If I had been the one to hear it I wouldn't have thought twice about it.  It did sound like a cicada or a small sneeze.  Only the frenzied animals might have tipped me off if I were really interested.  I peered under the porch and there in a cluster of dry leaves was a tiny little thing calling and searching for its mother.  Its eyes and ears were still closed and it wandered aimlessly looking for her.  I stood back to think a moment.  I knew nothing about opossums and didn't want to touch it and put a human scent on it if there was any chance the mother would come back for it.  I told my daughter to wait while I went inside to do some research.

Against my hopes, mother opossums do not return to retrieve a lost joey.  As marsupials they carry the babies in a pouch while they mature.  Once they are old enough the babies cling to their back and ride around on them that way en masse.  If they lose one, they don't even notice.  My next area of research involved opossum rescue centers in the hopes that someone else could take on the responsibility and leave my summer carefree.

After a lot of searching and a myriad of phone calls later, it turned out the nearest rescue center was two hours away.  I didn't know how long the baby opossum had been out there, but opossums are nocturnal and it was now getting into late afternoon.  Unsure if it would even survive a two hour drive, I found a heating pad, a fuzzy fur-like blanket and put the baby on it to warm up.  I didn't have any pet milk on hand, which is fine because a baby animal has to warm up for a couple of hours before attempting to feed it.  Skip that step and it could go into shock and shut down.  I called Mr. Bleu and asked him to stop by the store on his way home and pick  up some pet milk.  After two hours on the heating pad we mixed up some pet milk and the little joey ate a hearty meal.

Deciding to not get too attached, we kept on caring for our little wild thing.  Around the clock feedings with goat milk (cow milk causes constipation for many animals and that can also lead to death), plenty of warmth, and daily "baths" with a warm wet cloth.  To my surprise, she started thriving.  Eventually we decided to name her, Babbi, and she has become a part of the family.  We'll keep her indoors this winter and then release her into the woods in the spring.  I suspect she'll stay close to us, since she knows us, not to mention opossums love the cat food we put out to feed our kitties.  But, we'll see how things go.  You can never really tell what will happen next on a farm.