A bit of advice for anyone that owns a B B Q gril. DON'T SHOOT A IRATE POSSUM OFF THE TOP OF THE GRILL WITH A 12 Ga and # 1 shot at four yards!! Sunday morning as I go to have coffee on the deck I spy a possum on my new grill. It seems he doesn't want to leave that location even with my waving arms and a shouting. The possum gives a hiss and bare teeth. Not to be outdone by a lowely possum I grab the closest firearm (12 ga with # 1 shot) and move to about 12 or less feet and BOOM. You can't believe the mess. a 2 hour clean up detail of the area. Brand new grill doesn't have a dent. Wife was not happy!!
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A long-time-ago boss of mine lived out in the boonies. He had the perfect shooting set-up right outside his back door with a big hill as a backstop & so forth, so what you're going to hear next didn't pose a danger to anyone else.
Anyway, seems that a couple of raccoons moved into the neighbourhood & began raiding his trash cans. Nearly every morning he would hear the "crash!" of a can lid hitting the ground. Strapping them down didn't seem to help, the raccoons seemed to be masters at untying knots & figuring out how to thwart his best efforts.
One morning just at sunrise he heard the "crash!" again. Muttering unintelligbly under his breath (his wife thought she heard something about "raccoons" & "sending them straight to h*ll" & other, less-printable comments), he sprang out of bed, grabbed the .357 Colt, & went to take care of business.
Scene: trash cans are next to a utility building about 10 meters from the back door. Back door to the house leads to a mud-room about the size of a large closet. Without thinking, he throws open the inside door & then the outside door & BOOM BOOM BOOM, empties the entire cylinder of full-bore .357's into the trash can that has the lid missing.
About 15 seconds later a couple of paws catch the lip of the can, followed by a nose. The raccoon climbs to the lip of the can, jumps to the ground, gives Mike a baleful stare, & goes waddling off into the woods. Totally unscathed.
Having fired from INSIDE the mud room, Mike can't hear anything anyone says to him in normal comversation for about 3 hours.
Oh, btw: blows the can to h*ll. Half-inch entrance holes & exit holes you could put a baseball thru. The trash can itself is in the trash next pick-up.
The neighborhood possums would walk the fence at night, and used to drive our dog nuts. So I would catch them and "deport" them to the open area about a mile away. Now that we no longer have pets at home, I leave the possums alone. I looked up "opossum" on the internet. "Eats slugs and snails, rats and mice, carion and rotten fruit." I decided the possum living in the shed behind the garage, could stay. I haven't seen a snail in the yard in two years.
usually sweet potatos/yams.
an old southern dish,
texas too!
not just for poor sharecroppers.
carl g. hartman's book possums, university of texas press 1952, page 151, FDR ate possum, recipes begin on page 152.
the original other white meat.
Last edited by phil evans; 03-23-2009 at 09:53 PM.
usually sweet potatos/yams.
an old southern dish,
texas too!
not just for poor sharecroppers.
carl g. hartman's book possums, university of texas press 1952, page 151, FDR ate possum, recipes begin on page 152.
the original other white meat.
A friend of mine killed a possum once and thought it would be interesting to eat. His mother, a depression era gal, had cooked many back in the day and served it up. He said the first and only bite tasted like a spoon full of Crisco.
It was about 0200 in the morning... our mouser named Kitty Kat decided to sharpen her claws on the bedroom curtains. Kitty Kat is supposed to sleep in the garage and we keep the garage door open about 6 inches to allow her to perform her major function... catching the aforementioned rodents. Anyway, the curtain rod gave way and suddenly my wife is drowning in drapery material. She was not happy and requests me to "get that effing cat out of the house!"
Twenty minutes later I finally capture Kitty in the pantry and carry her to the garage door where we come face to face with Mr. Possum. Now, Kitty is not happy and bloodies my arm with her claws and escapes back inside the house. Mr. Possum disappears underneath one of the cars. After moving the cars outside I am still unable to locate the possum but a thorough search reveals him hiding behind the deep freeze. I use a broom and manage to remove him to the outdoors. Another search for Kitty Kat and another 20 minutes and back to the garage where there sits what I determined was that same attack possum. Now this is serious. With the cars back outside, I armed myself with the nearest weapon... the 9MM out of my wife's car. Thankfully the JHP's disintegrated upon impact with the concrete floor but unfortunately deposited fragments and gore into the sheet rock wall. Maybe I shouldn't have double tapped the varmint but by then I was't happy either.
Lesson learned... put the dang cat out or you will be cleaning walls and putting up curtains instead of sleeping.
My house has a conventional foundation, and a boiler room that is ground-level with an access opening to under the house. One of my cast-iron vents broke, and I opened the door to the boiler room one Monday night about 10:30pm to put some clothes in the dryer. Mr. possum was standing there by the hot water heater, looking back at me like "what are you doing here". I keep .22 Colibri's handy (they are .22LR'w with a sharp pointed bullet and just a primer charge). I was going to put one in his head and watch him waddle off. I've shot many a possum in my time, and anything less than a 20 gauge shotgun in close quarters usually just wounds them and they run off and die later. I grab a single-shot 22 and pop the possum in the back of the head. He immediately flops over on his back and starts a slow death flail, splashing possum blood all over the floor, the wall and the hot water heater. He bleeds out COMPLETELY - when I pick the carcass up there isn't a single drop of blood left in him. It took a big bag of kitty litter, bleach, and 3 hours to clean it up.
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& goes waddling off into the woods. Totally unscathed.
Originally Posted by phil evans
My possum adventure
