This afternoon my son noticed a baby opossum traipsing through our long grass. You might think these creatures are ugly, but I don't. Okay, so they aren't fuzzy and cuddly like some animals, but having been a friend to an opossum named Petunia, I feel a connection. There's a longer story about Petunia, but the short version is that I was a zoo volunteer and Petunia was one of our program animals. She was delicate, sweet and gentle. I see a little Petunia in that baby opossum in my yard, and I hope he finds his mama soon.
My husband stepped out to take a quick photo of our awesome opossum - emphasis on the quick in case the mom was nearby - and little Lyle, all alone in a sea of grass, tried out his still in development trademark defense system. He's got some work to do - quivering is a dead, pardon the pun, giveaway.
Lyle ("the island") wandered off toward my favorite lilac bush. I was going to cut some lilacs this evening, but just in case Lyle was headed to cuddle up with his mom in their little nest, I'll wait until tomorrow.
In the meantime we'll keep the dog, George (aka George Looney - for his stunning good looks and ability to plow through window screens with manic speed) on a short leash.
The cat, well she's too busy peeing on the welcome mat out front to give Lyle a second look. Come to think of it we should rename the cat - something like Pipi la Mew?