Cape Karen
Yesterday was an uneventful day here in the Great Smoky Mountains. It a was chilly and sunny day. We are happy to have this cooler weather, at long last ~ it has been such a long, hot summer and fall here.
My cat, Smudge, an indoor house cat, likes to go out on our deck from time to time each day. She has her little morning routine where after I feed her, she then goes over to her scratching post, does her little claw sharpening routine ~ and then she races for the front door ~ her way of telling me she wants to go out.
I always let her go out onto the deck, but because outdoor noises scare her; noises like cars racing by or dogs barking, and because I don't like having to keep jumping up and down to accomodate her "in and out" whims, I leave both the storm door and the inside door open a crack ~ just wide enough so that she can come in and out at will. She never leaves the deck. She's so sweet ~ she just sits there enjoying the sunshine and the fresh air; here she is waiting for birds to come to the feeders. 
Because of this 'lazy-on-my-part' arrangement, we've had a couple of incidents where a stray cat has entered the house and has fed on her food while I was busy in the den, or doing something out of sight. On those occassions, I'll usually hear a noise, and I'll promptly shoo the stray cat back outdoors.
We've even had birds flying around. There have been a couple of times when she's fancied that she needed a "playmate," and she's brought a bird inside, unharmed, as a "gift" for me. (No mice, just birds.) I'm always amazed at how gentle she is, and that she never attempts to eat them or to hurt them in any way. She just wants to play. So, yes ~ I've ended up chasing cats and birds out of the house, but it's rare, and it's really no big deal.
(All for the pleasure of our indoor/outdoor, deck-sitting, house cat.)
But ~ I'm afraid all that will have to change now.
Evidently, a couple of days ago, a creature entered our house very quietly, and I was not aware of its presence. Yesterday morning, I noticed that a bag of dry cat food had been knocked onto the floor, and that some animal had chewed holes in it. Smudge would never do that, so I figured I had just missed the occassional visit from another stray cat, and that it had come and gone. I cleaned up the cat food mess, checked all around the rest of the house, and everything was just fine.
Then, around 1:00 a.m. this morning, I suddenly heard something fall. It sounded like a bottle or a can, in the pantry; it hit the floor with a loud thud! I called for Smudge, thinking she had been climbing on the pantry shelves, but she didn't come like she usually does.
At the time, I was sitting in bed, in the dark, watching a TV show on the Discovery channel called, "A Haunting." That show had been scaring the bejeezes outta me to start with ~ and now, I was really spooked! There was someone, or something, in our house! (**Eeeek!**)
Grabbing my little bedside flashlight, I crept out of bed slowly and cracked open the door about an inch; I shone the light down the dark hallway, towards the kitchen where we keep Smudge's food and water.
And, this is what I saw . . .
O' my god! A real live possom was staring right at me; his bright white face and his little beady eyes were shining in the flashlight's glare! I slammed the door shut and screamed for Frank to wake up!
He was very annoyed to be so rudely awakened, but I didn't care. I was too busy screaming: "There's a big possum in the house!"
Frank, being a good Minnesotan hunter, keeps a loaded pellet gun by the front door ~ ready to shoot the occassional skunk or rabbit that gets into his vegetable garden.
My Hero! He bravely went out into the hallway and into the kitchen area, in his bare feet, to rid our home of this "beastie in the night." I stayed cowering behind the door, up on the bed, listening. . . as he tried to shoo the animal out of the house. But, "Pete the Possum" was scared now, and he was also cowering. . . behind a chair in the living room; and he was hissing at barefoot Frank, in fear.
Suddenly, I hear: "Pop! Pop! Pop!" I'm thinking, "O' good grief ~ he's shot the damn thing, and there's going to be blood and guts all over my living room!"
I was right ~ but, not a lot of blood and guts; he was kind enough to only wound it slightly, just enough to get it to run out the open door. It was enough, though, that I did spend half an hour shampooing the carpet, washing a blood-spattered wall, picking up possum poop. . . and gagging!
Smudge, I hate to tell you this, but I'm not leaving the door open a crack anymore. You're going to have to be satisfied sniffing fresh air through a cracked-open, screen-covered window from now on.
And, by the way ~ where the heck were YOU while a BIG FAT possum roamed around your house all day and night?
GEEEEEEEZZZZZZ!
(Thank goodness it wasn't a skunk!)