Opossum

This postcard is for my friend Brian in South Carolina. The photo is of a possum that Koko, the world's finest dog, herded up a tree before dawn one morning. I know this because the ringing of the phone at 5:30 a. m. roused me from a deep slumber long enough to conclude that whoever it was could bloody well call back later. Which he did in three seconds. It was my compadre asking me to bring the camera to the tree where he, Koko, and Koko's new best friend had gathered.

Brian gets to be the proud possessor of this card because he was with me early one evening in the New York City bar directly across from Grand Central Station. (If you know which bar I mean, please use the Comments section to tell us the name. We're waiting...) In the restroom, I overheard a conversation in which two women were talking about fur and their winter coats. One woman said, "My coat has an o-possum lining."

I was still giggling when I got back to the table where Brian was waiting, and even now I don't believe I'd have said that out loud.

Now it seems to me that when it comes to possums there are two major differences between city girls and country girls. First, when country girls talk, the O is silent. Second, city girls will wear the fur of the treed animal above NEXT TO THEIR BODIES. I know they can't help it. They don't know any better. But if you think this young possum looks creepy, you ought to watch two adults waddle up to your picture window late at night and glare in as though asking why the heck you don't let them in and offer them a beer.