Last week, I quasi-chronicled my ridiculous fear of crickets and my unfortunate (for the cricket) encounter with one in my bathroom. A couple of people asked where my valient husband was that I had to massacre the cricket on my own. He was out of town, otherwise, yes, he would have come to my rescue. I’m no damsel in distress, but I do recognize my own limits as a girl and in general I let my man do the killing. It makes him feel good and it spares me a heart attack. And, let me tell you, Lee is not only good at killing crickets and spiders…
A couple of years ago, Lee and I were just laying down to go to bed. It was around 10:00 and we were exhausted. As we laid down we heard a dog barking incessantly right outside our bedroom wall. After about fifteen minutes of listening to the dog’s methodical, rhythmic bark, I sat up and said, “Seriously! Are you kidding me?!” I got up and walked to the back door and flipped on the back porch light. Just behind our fence in the back is a small cluster of trees, or a tangle of weeds, however you want to look at it. In front of that cluster stood a dog I’ve never seen before (nor have I seen it since this fateful night) and he was barking maniacally. I opened the door and gently told it to stop barking (I think my exact words were, “For the love, SHUT UP!”) But the dog was worked up. There was obviously something in that cluster of trees/weeds that he wanted. At this point Lee walked out and we both put our shoes on to go investigate.
We very cautiously tiptoed up to where the dog stood. Lee gave the pooch a kick – uh, I mean gentle nudge with his toe – and we peered into the trees. At this point I was certain some kind of monster of death was going to leap out at us so I admit I was hanging back a little farther than Lee.
“Go get me a flashlight,” Lee whispered. I ran inside, retrieved the flashlight and returned to him. He flipped it on and two huge, black eyes were suddenly shining back at us. I yelped and jumped back, and if I’m being honest, Lee did too – but don’t tell him I told you that. It was a possum. But it wasn’t any old possum. It was a Teenage Mutant Ninja Possum. It was huge. And it was hissing at us. Did you know possums hiss? Well, they do.
We quickly figured out that if we didn’t do something to get rid of this animal we would be getting no sleep that night as this random dog was freaking out. So Lee asked me to go get a shovel.
“Why?” I asked.
“Just do it,” Lee said. Knowing better than to argue with a man hopped up on adrenaline, I ran to the garage and got him a shovel, then I dashed back about ten yards. Lee needed me to hold the flashlight for him so he could see, but I had no intention of being close by when that possum was knocked loose. This is why women live longer than men – common sense…
What happened next was like a scene from a very bad horror movie. Lee knocked the possum down, angering the creature. In an act of self defense, he then began hitting the possum over and over, whopping and hollering the whole time. The dog started barking and hopping around and I’m standing in the corner of the yard cringing and yelping every time I hear the shovel meet the possum. Finally, Lee stepped back, panting and puffing. I was looking at him with wide, horrified eyes and the dog was drooling over the carcas on the ground. I can’t remember if we scooped up the possum and threw it away or left it for the dog. I was in a bit of a stupor after that.
As we walked in the house, Lee had a new kind of swagger about him. I immediately began giggling. He was traipsing around the house like a pioneer man who had just defended his lady and children from the evil of the wild. He walked around the living room, his shoulders swinging, a smug look on his face. He had just conquered animal. He had defended his right to a good night’s sleep, he killed something with his bare hands (well, almost). I’ve never seen him walk around with such pride. It was hilarious.
So, now you know what kind of man I have. He will go to great lengths for his family. He will face the beast. Okay, so it was only a possum. Don’t tell Lee though. In his mind it was the same as fighting off a wolf or a mountain lion. And that is why I love my man. His devotion to me does not stop at killing spiders and crickets. What a guy!
– Oh, and by the way…If there is anyone from PETA who reads this blog, don’t think we’re animal haters. We have a dog. She is surviving us – mostly. We’re not hunters and we don’t kill animals on a regular basis – although we do like a good burger, admittedly. This was an isolated act of self defense so please, don’t put us on your hate list. Much obliged…