We didn't throw that away

We still owned a house in Kalamazoo. So, because we couldn't afford to pay two house payments, we lived with my in-laws. This, of course, had its benefits and problems. One of the benefits I enjoyed the most was their back yard. I could walk through the sliding glass door, close the chaos behind me and enjoy.

I stepped out onto the deck, which was nearly as wide as the back of the house. The area just behind the door had the grill, where many a meal was cooked, a table with high chairs you could eat at and it looked out onto the bird feeders m father in law kept stocked. To the left, you could take a few steps up to glass patio table covered by an umbrella and surrounded by cushioned chairs, which was nicely positioned by the crystal blue pool. It was peaceful. A momentary sanctuary.

I had stepped out here for nothing more that to net a few stray leaves out of the water and sink into a more relaxing part of the day. The sound and smell of the cool water was easy to get lost in.

I breathed deeply and slowly through my nose and was immediately hit by a strange smell. It was like something nearby had gone bad, rotten meat maybe, or something dead. So, I start looking for the source. I've moved from the relaxation of pool maintenance to finding the offensive material. I walk the deck trying to breath in the location, summon my inner bloodhound. I move away from the pool at the glass table. I move back by the barbecue grill and the sliding doors and industrial sized quantities of bird seed kept in steel 55 gallon garbage cans.

I'm getting closer, I can tell by the strength of the smell, so I begin opening everything around me. I open the grill, nothing. I open the first garbage can, it is full of bird seed but nothing else. The lid is upside down on the second one, probably meaning it is empty, but I am not sure. I grab the edge of the lid, pull it back and am greeted with a loud hiss, a rattle of the can and the sight of a large white, maybe diseased opossum curled in the bottom of the can. The sound and the movement cause me to just back and drop the lid. I have visions of the beast coming after me. with all the bravery I can muster, I walk into the house.

I tell the kids who are watching TV to not go out there for a minute and go find my father-in-law. I guess I figure, he's going to be the expert on how to get a opossum out of a can and not have it eat your face. He's puttering the the garage and he wants to see it. Look wouldn't you? Anyway, we collectively go back into the back yard, me stepping out after I spend a minute looking through the glass to assure it is not out there waiting for me. I point to where it is, peeking just over the lip to I can see the now still critter. "Is it dead?" "No, it is certainly not dead.". "It looks bad". "It kind of smells dead."

That is about the extent of the talk. My father in law grabs the handle of the can, clearly not having seen enough Tru TV to know how this will end. He hoists it to the middle of the yard and flips the can completely over, trapping the nightmare underneath it. Then, in a fairly quick move, he knocks it over and gets back up to the deck with me. Perhaps he does realize how close he came to certain doom.

Seconds later, the animal bolted out of the yard. Perhaps I could work with the pool tomorrow. Today, TV seemed a little more relaxing.