Not O'Possums -- our possums are not of Irish extraction. Ours are the McSupial variety, clearly of Scottish lineage, as you can tell not merely by the name but from their habits.
They're a highly-evolved species; or at least, evolved enough to form into social groups which are known to naturalists as Football Clubs. Which is to say, being of Scottish extraction, and not being able to play the bagpipes (bagpipes were hunted to extinction in this state, in the nineteenth century), wear tartan (they could, but they just don't bother, because they're nocturnal, it's dark, and nobody would notice) or eat shortbread (McPossums are vegetarian*), they fall back on the one thing they can do, and do well. Play football.
(*shortbread? No. They prefer anything in your orchard or your vegetable patch. I promise you, you can bait your McPossum trap with shortbread, and the little buggers utterly ignore it.)
The local football league convenes at about one in the morning, on or around the best metal roof they can find. Ours seems to fit the bill to perfection.
Last night's game (played out in the early hours of this morning) went to extra time, injury time, and tie-breakers.
It's a good thing the little bast--darlings are so cute, or there would be shotgun holes through the ceiling today. Incidentally, the Scottish McSupial possums living downunder are very different from the Irish variety, the O'Possums, from the US, which are not in the sightest cute. Ours look like this, which is the ONLY reason most of them are still alive:
Aren't they just too cute? They're about the size of a big cat, and anywhere you find gum trees, you find possums. Suffice to say, city and hills alike are full of gum trees.
(And no, there is absolutely nothing going on in the Mel-o-sphere; hence the sports results from last night: South Adelaide Celtics v. Adelaide Hills Highlanders. Rooftop possum soccer, brought to you by Match of the Day. Night. Whatever.)
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