When I was a kid I was out for a walk in the woods with my family when my dad decided to lift the hood on an old car. Inside was a group of baby possums gorging on their dead mother. My dad decided to catch one and bring it home, where it was given the name Smiley and lived in a little enclosure for about a week before it became too much of nuisance. It was a great possum, but it had escaped several times, getting into and behind some drawers (requiring disassembly of our bathroom cabinet), and inside of my parents’ box spring somehow. After a while my dad decided it was time to part ways, so he brought it to a nearby rescue and I assume it lived a long and prosperous life.
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