Last night we had a refugee make a nest under the folding chairs on the deck.
A few days ago the kids found a boules set which we've carted from house to house for a fair while without anyone caring too much about it. Now they've decided it's what they'll do on warm afternoons when they are kicked off electronics. While the boys and the CFO were playing, they saw a very small possum scuttle up the stair handrail into the crabapple tree that hangs over the deck. It began to forage in the leaves. There wasn't much to forage for, we had very little blossom and virtually no fruit this year.
The CFO managed to sneak some apple slices onto the deck railing just below the tree and the little possum came down. It was desperate. It ate three pieces straight off even with three small fascinated humans hovering well within its personal space. It was very young, probably last year's baby finally kicked off mum's back. Brushtails are not actually very attractive but this one was so little and clutched its bits of apple while peering at us with round red popeyes that we all fell in love with it. It crept down onto the deck where the CFO had put a small bowl of water, crawled into a nook behind a chair and started to lick its tail. A dog must have been at it, the tip was gone and there were red nicks and notches and knotted fur. Poss curled into a ball and slept.
Sometime in the night it moved on. We hope it finds a proper nest and no more dogs.
Raising the Yurt, part two
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