A few nights ago Keely exited to the boat to venture up to the ladies room. She left quickly, shutting the door behind her to keep the mosquitoes and no-see-ums at bay. Rover began barking in alarm. He was not pleased. I tried to reason with him. “Keely will be back soon to take you for your evening stroll,” I said soothingly. He wasn’t buying it.
I opened the door and stepped through the companionway and glanced around the cockpit. Under the cockpit table, staring up at me was a possum. It looked something like this:
Its beady little eyes peered straight into my soul as we both froze, unsure what to do next. Rover made his move. He flew past me as I lunged for the safety of the door. Under the table he went, his terrier instincts driving him to flush the animal out of hiding. The possum bolted onto the deck, off the boat, across the dock and into the water with Rover on his tail.
Rover spent a good twenty minutes covering every inch of the deck, looking under every cushion, sniffing around the bikes, patrolling the fore-deck and the surrounding dock to make sure Mr. Beady Eyes didn’t return or leave behind any friends.
He was a good dog. Yesterday he celebrated.