Sunday, I decided to clean out the fridge. Pushed into the back corner was a white meat pack, dated 2004, with HAMBURGER in it. (It had been frozen for a while, but... this was NOT in the freezer now.) Out it went.
Turkey that was tainted.
Celery all limp and yellow that I'd neglected to throw into the freezer.
Out of sight, out of mind seems to be a BIG THING in my fridge currently. The light bulb is not operational.
The baked potato I accidentally left in the microwave at least four days, until I went to make another. I was afraid of it, so out it went.
Green cottage cheese. (Right beside the hamburger...)
A golden delicious apple and three baby carrots still in the brown bag lunch bag the school served the last day of school, LAST MAY.
Boiled shrimp tails.
The bones from the Iowa Chops I fixed Sunday. (delicious).
The bones from the spare ribs I'd set something else on top of (in an old plastic ice cream carton.)
A chunk of Peppridge Farm vanilla three layer cake, well-molded. I don't even remember buying one. How long does it take to change one of them into a weak Limburger cheese imitation? Months? Years? I don't know.
Out they all went.
The cats were jumping all over the place, as things hit, trying to grab the tastiest morsels. Not everything they grabbed stayed in their mouths, of course. Eventually, they reached satiation and retired under the porch.
Fast forward to that evening, well after dark. Whatever I threw into the long grass on the west side of the porch was evidently still up for grabs. I had an armload of library books I was going to store in the car so I didn't overlook them in the morning if I happened to be behind. I flicked on the porch light and popped out the door. Less than two feet away was Mrs. Skunk, tail up and threatening. She was circling around something Mr. Possum was straddling. He was threatening to bite her nose. (This, I believe, is the same partially grown skunk, now broader and more adult, my tom cat clawed in the nose 6" from the front door this summer without her spraying him. A peace-loving skunk?)
But tonight, faced with a bigger, more aggressive animal snarling and snapping some awesome-looking teeth at her, she was stomping, threatening to douse him up close and personal, circling closer and closer, obviously getting more and more irate.
Maybe my daytime "bird feeder" needs a nighttime bouncer.
Me, I figure no matter WHO won that encounter, discretion was the better part of valor. I retreated and snapped off the light.
The porch was still usable the next morning, so I guess the possum overcame his brief display of foolish bravery.