In honour of the fact that The Scottish Ambassador blog had an equal number stumbling upon it when searching for “possum” as “Scottish Ambassador” this week, I’m treating you all to a photo of the world’s cutest baby orphan ‘possum/opossum. I have no recollection of ever writing about possums in these posts, but I am willing to concede that I may have done at some stage. A possum sporran, perhaps? No idea.
Anyway, this wee one took up residence in my yard in Little Scotland a couple of years ago. I named her Morag and was all set to incorporate her wee snout into Little Scotland’s official crest.
We made each other’s acquaintance one morning when I was sitting downstairs, scowling at the latest border infraction on the part of the Little Portuguese (elderly neighbours George and Tony had once again pulled up various pricey plants in my garden, proclaiming “these jus’ weeds!”), when I heard a succession of startling cracking noises. Fearing what G&T were up to now, I dashed to the front door and encountered this wee beastie – even smaller than when I took this photo – crunching and snarfing down the plate of cat food I’d left out for the wee stray that lived on the street. I was as surprised as Morag was — although I didn’t fall over backwards with my wee toes in the air as a result. 
I won’t say that Morag and I ever became friends, but she got used to coming round, hanging out in the back yard, and developed a serious cat food habit. Her cat food-smelling abilities were outstanding! I would have been proud to incorporate her into Little Scotland’s crest, alongside the weeds and a motto that said something offensive about the Little Portuguese’s gardening techniques in Latin.
I think Morag eventually got too fat to fit under the fence. 
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