So I am sitting typing away at the keyboard when I notice the sound of a cat scratching in the litter box coming from the kitchen. This nothing new as that’s where one of the litterboxes is, and I think nothing of it, until I happen to realize that all three of our cats are within two feet of me (Hank on top of the monitor, Kaurah on top of the PC tower, and Simon on my lap…their usual spots) and I think to myself “well, that ain’t right” and walk into the kitchen to investigate. Wherein I find a cute young opossum digging in the cat box, at which point I say, out loud to myself “That’s a fucking opossum!” I shut the door (the cats don’t even seem to notice, which is funny because if another cat comes within 50 feet of the house they seem to notice that) and grab a broom, wake my wife, realize that I have nothing on my feet (I don’t want to face down a opossum barefoot) and realize I have no idea how to get a opossum out of the house, or how it got in in the first place. I didn’t think trying to pick it up would be an especially bright idea…so, apparently during my fruitless brain storming session, the little fella went back down into the basement (I had left the door open) which is where I am assuming he/she came from in the first place. I guess tomorrow I find a way to trap it, and find it a new place to live. Anyone want a opossum?