November 15, 2007
What if it’s not really dead?
Thank God for Google. Yes, it’s great for recipe searches, how to sell your house, potty training your puppy – and your kids, but who’d of thought I would run to it one midnight in search of the answer to the greatest question of all time.
We have a dog. He is a pain. His name is Otis and he is 10 months old, 65 pounds and a lanky mix of german shepherd and lab. He was once really cute. He does not know how to play fetch, preferring for me to chase him with the ball instead of bringing it back to me. However, one chilly midnight, while my husband was out of state I should mention, he was more than happy to run to me with his latest find.
After 15 minutes of barking in the middle of the night, I’d figured the neighbors had had enough. Otis definitely had his eye on something, as he just kept staring at the ground while barking his head off. We live in an area where lots of bunnies roam, so I figured he’d found a nest. I begrudgingly put on my shoes and headed out to try to entice him to come inside. He is mainly black so he is hard to see in the dark.
All of a sudden, here comes Otis, bounding out of the perennials toward me with his find – the biggest possum I’d ever seen, with the grossest, longest, rattiest tail I’ve ever seen. I scream, thinking, “now the neighbors are really going to be awake!” He’s violently shaking this thing around and then drops it, confused that his new playmate is not playing back. Amazed that he actually dropped it, I pulled his collar and got him in the house, wiped off his face and locked him up in his crate so any germs could wear off, eeewww.
Well, the thing was dead. I got pretty close to see that there was no movement whatsoever. I mean after a shaking of that nature, how could anything survive. So I went to the garage to get a shovel so I could throw it over the fence when my friend Carin says “what if it’s not really dead?” I looked at her, puzzled. She said “haven’t you ever heard of playing possum?” Great, I thought, what am I supposed to do now. My shovel was like, 2 feet long, and I wasn’t taking any chances.
So as anyone would do, I sprinted to my computer, went to Google and typed in the question of all questions – “How do you know if a possum is really dead?” I was amazed at how fast my fingers flew and what I learned. Did you know possums can shut down their entire systems for hours to thwart off predators. Hmmm. I felt like a kid in elementary school science class learning some pretty cool stuff. About 20 minutes later, I crept onto the deck and our little friend had fled the yard. Sometimes I wish I could do that. Just shut everything down until it is safe to come out again and pick up where I left off. I could do that, and I wouldn’t even need the physical shaking, because life shakes us up enough.
So Google saved me from what could have been a shrieking experience with a still alive possum and a very short shovel. Thank you Google. I hope this story gets published in the new Chicken Soup for the Google Lover’s Soul.
