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Taking a walk down the road one day in early spring, a small creature scampered out in front of me. At first, I thought it was a baby ferret that had escaped. As I drew closer I was excited to see that it was a baby possum. At that time my knowledge about possums was very limited but in my heart I had always admired their good looks. I was extremely careful in picking him up behind his neck as to not receive a bite because he was very frightened and seemed disorientated. To my surprise I noticed he had no eyes, just empty eyeball sockets. This may have been one of the reasons he was separated from his mother. I wrapped him snugly in a cloth as to restrain his arms and legs so I could tube feed him. I had to keep him still to feed him so he could learn to understand that I was trying to help him. He was so hungry he gobbled his food so fiercely that I thought he was going to try to swallow the feeder tube. Within a week I did not need to restrain his arms and legs to feed him. He had bonded with me and I was now his surrogate mother. A couple weeks later I was holding him and feeding him while I was watching a silly movie on television called “Bill and Ted's excellent Adventure”. One of the characters was gorging down ice cream at a parlor with the name “Ziggy Piggy's”. He now had a famous dignified name, I was living with my parents at this time during a transitional phase of my life. Even though I already had a dog and a ferret my father did not mind me keeping Ziggy. He told me that when he was a boy, he and his brother both had a pet possum. I was very surprised to hear and realize that possum admiration runs in the family. He had been quiet about that his whole life like it was a terrible family secret having a passion for possums. In a few months Ziggy Piggy was growing into a stout, robust and magnificent specimen of an opossum. When I would talk to him I would tell him that all the lady opossums think that he was a real chunky hunky. His favorite foods were scrambled eggs and chicken and I would make special runs to the store to feed his addiction and craving for fish sticks. He went nuts over cheetos but I was careful not to give him too many because of the salt. When we would all be around the dinner table sometimes I would put him up on the chair next to me and share tidbits. He loved being part of the family. His favorite place to sit was up on the back of the couch where he would groom himself. Sometimes when he would yawn my mother would exclaim, “His mouth stretches like an accordion!” Sometimes he would sit and face towards the television as if he were a couch potato. His mouth would be hanging open exposing his gums and teeth and he would drool. My youngest daughter, Marissa, would really laugh at this because he looked so goofy. We would let him climb the tree out back as long as we kept a harness leash on him so he could not climb out of reach. Marissa sometimes would give the leash a tug and he would fall down for her to catch him! He did not seem to mind this at all. He would want to scamper back up the tree to repeat this over and over again as if he were a sky diver at heart! Sometimes I would bath him and blow dry him. He wasn'wasn't too crazy about the bathing part and put up with it. When it came to the blow drying he loved it. When I would have my hand on the back of his neck, he would twist his head right around to lick me on the hand. I think it was an exchange of grooming. To groom one another in the animal kingdom is an expression of total trust. Sometimes when I did bathe him I let him sit on the porch until I got the blow dryer. Our two dogs, Gracie and Bruno did not like baths themselves so they would show concern and come up and sit by him as if to say, “Hey man, we know how you feel, can we be of any help?” Gracie and Bruno did not mind Ziggy at all and must have sensed he was blind because they always gave him the right of way when he would be exploring on the back porch. They would quickly jump out of his way if he seemed like he was going to collide into them. The back porch was his favorite place. The utility company would have to come through the back gate on to the porch in order to get to the meter to be read. One day I heard a yell, “Whoa! That's a possum!” I had to come out to show the meter reader that he was not in danger of being eaten. Within a minute he was admiring and petting him and had never seen an opossum up close before and never knew they could be such fine company. He must have gone back to work and told the story because when we would get a different meter reader they would ask “Where's the possum?” One time I took him with me to a pet store that also had a vet and a grooming salon. The groomers made a fuss and dolled him up with a decorative black and orange bandana for Halloween. The vet come out to see him and was showing curiosity over his empty eyeball sockets. I couldn't help but get agitated and annoyed at him wanting to touch the eyes he didn't have. I wanted him to admire him, not pick fault with him. I was like a clucky mother possum defending her afflicted child. Another time I dressed him up in Bruno's red dog sweater. I had a friend that lived around the corner who was also an animal lover. When it was very hot she would invite me and Ziggy to come for a swim. I would lounge in the pool on the blow up raft with Ziggy perched on top of me to dry off and to keep his claws from puncturing the raft. He didn't seem to mind the water at all when it was really hot. Since he was blind he must have had very acute hearing to make up for it because of his reaction to different noises. Sometimes my dad would be watering the garden when Ziggy would be roaming in the yard. Dad would get this mischievous streak and make the hose suddenly hiss which would prompt Ziggy to burst out into a comical fast paced goose step. The way he lumbered and waddled when he walked reminded me of a prehistoric beast. He was my Ziggo-saurus, and when he would smile and show all his teeth I called him “Count Ziggula”. I loved him very much and we were best friends. He would fall asleep on my lap especially when I would brush him it really relaxed him. When an opossum has no eyes there is a lot of guesswork in knowing when they are asleep. The following year when I had to move, I ended up in hospital with a deep depression that was related to episodes of binge drinking. My illness had gotten me in a position that endangered the welfare of my dear little friend. Since he trusted me entirely, I felt as if I was betraying him not being there to rescue him again for a second time. A natural science museum went to see him. They were skeptical at first until they saw him. The only problem was once I donated him I couldn't have him back but that was better than what I had to offer at that time. It broke my heart to give him up. They let me visit him and even work at the museum voluntarily so I could work with the other animals. Children in school who came in on field trips could get to be educated and informed on opossums. He was gentle and docile and could be trusted when others held him as he was used to people and didn't mind strangers. Ziggy Piggy was a blessing in my life that taught me a lot about myself. Just as I had to restrain him as a baby to feed him, God had put me in a place of restraint where he could heal me of my affliction. Just as Ziggy was blind and I had to be his eyes, Jesus lead me into a walk entirely by faith as I trusted him, like Ziggy trusted me taking care of him. At times he would give my reign a tug and let me fall and he would catch me and I would learn that during these times to have no fear no matter what. I have been sober now for five years and have no depression. My husband and I were reconciled and remarried, and I have told him countless stories about Ziggy Piggy. My grandchildren shall hear them also as we teach our children to respect and love God's creation. To me, there is no such thing as an ugly opossum, just awesome possums. Written by: Desma Jones Woodland, Washington Desma Jones chose to donate her $10 prize for winning story of the month to the National Opossum Society. Willa's Ark matched her donation. All stories are property of the author and can not be reproduced without their express permission. Read February's or March's Story! | ||||||||