One dull rainy Saturday morning in June Hubby found a baby possum on our driveway.
He’d gone outside to collect the newspaper and by the time he came inside and told me about it, possum had moved to the garden, safely sheltered by trees.
Hubby said let’s just leave it; I said no, we have to help.
So we got a cardboard box, a towel, and gardening gloves (trust me, you DO NOT want possum teeth or claws in you! Been there, done that!) and went back out to pick him / her up. We weren’t sure if he / she was injured but I figured a possum who didn’t move when we approached wasn’t at full health.
After calling the RSPCA for advice, I dropped our little guest to a local vet for a once over // for them to manage things from then on.
Over dinner Hubby, Mr 15 and I talked about it and even though Hubby hadn’t been keen to help initially he said he was glad we did the right thing in the end – and that I insisted!
