The Sun (San Bernardino)

I’m not playing, possum: Time for you to git!

- Patricia Bunin Columnist Email patriciabu­nin@sbcglobal.net and follow her on Twitter @patriciabu­nin

Have a cooking question? Contact Cathy Thomas at cathythoma­scooks@gmail. com

Apparently, there is a secret sign on my front door that only animals can read: “Welcome all creatures great and small.”

It started with a coyote using the space under my deck as a birthing center, followed by a huge influx of ants shouting, “Hell no, we won’t go.”

Then a rat got jealous and took up residence in the living room wall. After his unpleasant eviction, there was a brief lull until the first day of spring.

I looked out the window and saw a small animal that almost blended into the gray day. Squirrel Dink, a name I borrowed from my late mother-in-law, had come for the food he had squirreled away in the planters on my deck. He had turned the top step into a dining table, though it was obvious his mother never taught him any table manners.

“What next?” I wondered.

The answer came the next morning before the squirrel arrived for breakfast. I had actually been thinking about tidying his table when I happened upon a new visitor. An opossum had assumed squatters rights on my rocking chair. Pointy-faced and fierce, he looked so scary even his mother would not call him beautiful. It was clear he was not to be messed with.

“Excuse me, Mr. O, but you’re sitting in my chair,” was definitely not going to work.

Maybe he’ll faint and play dead? No, that would more likely be me.

Suddenly anxious that he might poke his way through the screen, I closed and locked the casement window. Since I am not a morning person, I held on to a slim hope that I was still asleep and this was a bad dream. Or maybe being up so early had distorted my view of reality.

When I noticed the throw pillow on the deck lounge chair had the stuffing chewed out of it, it became clear that although it felt like a nightmare it was all too real.

Vowing never to get up early again, I headed for the kitchen to brew a cup of calming tea. Taking small deliberate sips alternatin­g with deep breaths, I returned to the window and discovered Mr. O had flown the coop, or rocker, as it were. SD had returned to his table and was sloppily downing a sumptuous brunch.

Take down the welcome sign, guys. This property is full up.

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