A wild animal has been coming to the doorstep at night looking for goodies. I discovered that my mother was feeding him, and lectured her sternly. Number one, he is undoubtedly rabid and we will all die. Before we succumb to rabies we will have several other dread diseases, plus who knows what else. We will also be attacked. Moreover, what sort of animal is this? I told her she was encouraging rodents. She kept insisting it was a possum. "How do you know that?' "I've seen him." "Do you know what a mess he makes? He'll bring all his friends, too."
There was no stopping her, and finally I said, "OK, feed your freaky little pet." She therefore named him Freaky.
Freaky has been cautious enough that I really didn't believe in Freaky. But day after day goodies and table scraps disappeared at the backdoor.
Tonight I put out part of a salad for Freaky, and later decided to put out a bite of hamburger. When I opened the backdoor, I heard a rustling, and thought the cat was at the door. No, it was Freaky boldly eating goodies. I was surprised that he didn't run when he saw me, but he was too intent on his goodies. Freaky is definitely a possum.
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