I've no idea if the little possum came back, or not, last night.
I think I'd have a better chance of winning lotto even though I haven't bought a ticket, than be in the right place, at the right time, to see her.
There was some possum traffic on the roof during the night, but not the pitter patter of tiny little feet.
Speaking of tiny little feet...
A week ago, jokingly, I wrote "Belly bulge?" in my diary, with reference to Takeaway.
She looked like she might have a bulge, but then, maybe not. It's hard to tell with her.
She got up this evening about five minutes late, and rather than hover in the doorway of the house she made her way out onto the bridge, and paused there.
Her belly fur's cream, and it seemed a bit strange that there was a dark shadow on it, so I grabbed the torch and had a quick look.
Somebody had some out of the pouch time, in the house, and didn't want to get all the way back into the pouch, ha ha.
Not that I can tell a lot about the health or vitality of a baby possum from it's leg, but it looked like a reasonably healthy leg, and I'm going to assume it was a lower back I saw, and a tail, too, just like a little black pipe cleaner.
Welcome, fourth child, I look forward to meeting you more formally, in the months to come.
🙂
