The Birthday Possum | One To Nothin'

The Birthday Possum


We have a lot of traditions in my family. The birthday sign on the door, spamburgers with Coke, White Russians and watching "Love Actually" on Christmas, but these are all manmade traditions. They are wonderful because we made them that way. The Birthday Possum is a whole different kind of tradition.

The magical kind.

It all started on my 21st birthday... So clearly I was wasted.

And we went outside to play beer pong.. or jump on the trampoline.. I don't know, it's fuzzy, but the point is I was suddenly face to face with an adorable baby possum. So what did my drunk self do? I touched it, of course! I tried to catch it and make it my best friend.. and that's about the last memory I have from that night. (If we're being honest, the possum memory didn't come back to me until the next day when my friend Ryan posted on my Facebook wall about it).

Now, this is certainly not the first time I've ever tried to make a furry friend while drunk, in fact I once found 5 to 8 pitch black photos on my phone's camera the morning after going out because while trying to pet a mouse I found in the middle of the road, I was also trying to take photos of it.. with no flash.

I digress.

Fast-forward 12 months and I'm lying out by my pool in the backyard reading on my birthday when I heard this weird squeaking noise. I ignored it, thinking it was a bird or something, but it continued and it was like no other bird I had ever heard before, so I decided to investigate. The next thing I know I'm fishing an adorable baby possum out of my pool with the net (terrified that it's going to jump at my face and give me rabies. Yea, I'm not as friendly when sober apparently.) I tried flipping the net over but the poor dummie decided to play possum after implementing an iron-like grip on the netting. I imagine it just lay there playing dead for hours on the other side of the fence, but eventually it let go and I returned the net.

According to a super legit-like website, Spirit Lodge:


"You are being asked to use strategy in some present situation. Rely upon your instincts for the best way out of a tight corner. If you have to pretend to be apathetic or unafraid, do it! Oftentimes if you refuse to struggle or show that hurtful words bother you, your taunter will see no further fun in the game. Warriors have used Opossum medicine for centuries, playing dead when the enemy is least expecting it, the war cry is heard. The fright of this serves to further confuse the unsuspecting opposition. Victory is sweet when the strategy is one of mental as well as physical prowess. "


So there's that. Maybe it just means I can excrete death scent at will, though.


The point is, I didn't ask these possums to come party with my on my birthday, and I don't know for sure that I'll see one on this day of my birth.. but I do know that I've seen one scurry across the road in my neighborhood for the past two nights in a row (and this is not a normal occurrence for me).

It's just one of those magical birthday traditions I guess.

Thanks for helping me ring in my 23rd, Birthday Possum.

6 comments:

  1. Best. Blog post. Ever.....EVER. Mouse night is one of my top 5 memories of all of college. Happy opossum hunting!

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  2. epic. i would love a birthday opossum!

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  3. Happy birthday to my favorite little Pogo. (google Pgo)

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  4. HAHA! The birthday possum... hilarious. I want to party with you and try to catch possums while taking pictures with no flash.

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  5. thanks for sharing.

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