Biology Reference
In-Depth Information
About that time, Basil remembered the phrase “playing possum” and began to suspect the truth. He
next drove to the home of the local game warden, who quickly confirmed that the stranger was indeed
a possum—seemingly dead, but still very much alive—the first one seen in those parts.
The name
opossum
is one of those adapted without much change from the Native Americans; it
comes from the Algonquian
apasum,
“white animal,” and most possums, especially those farther north,
are indeed a very light gray—sometimes almost white. In 1612, Captain John Smith of Pocahontas fame
was the first European to send back word of this novel creature, which he described in these terms: “An
Opassum hath a head like a Swine, & a taile like a Rat, and is of the Bignes of a Cat.” Captain John was
evidently a keen observer, for this is a remarkably apt, if somewhat superficial, description.
Aside from a very long, pointed snout with fifty teeth, the possum's most notable feature is its long,
naked, ratlike tail. This useful appendage is prehensile, and possums are widely depicted as hanging by
their tails while sleeping. This is a myth: biologists who work with possums have never seen this be-
havior. Possums do, however, wrap their prehensile tails around branches in order to brace themselves
and steady their position in trees, using the tail almost as a third hand, and one might conceivably sus-
pend itself by its tail very briefly. Possums don't, however, hang by their tails for any length of time,
and they certainly don't sleep in that fashion.
If possums don't dangle by their tails, they assuredly hang by their hind feet. This behavior is made
possible by a most curious adaptation that helps them clamber about in trees, gripping branches se-
curely. Four of the toes on each hind foot have sharp claws, but the fifth, the big toe, lacks a nail and is
opposable, like a human thumb. This odd-looking digit, which appears almost as if its tip had been am-
putated, enables the possum to grip branches with such dexterity that it can use its front feet to gather
fruit while suspended by its hind feet.
True omnivores, possums will eat virtually anything. In fact, those who know the possum well often
describe it as the quintessential omnivore—a sort of walking garbage can. Possums have a reputation in
story, folklore, and song for loving persimmons when the puckery fruits ripen to sweetness in the fall.
True, possums do devour persimmons with gusto, but they also feed avidly on other fruit, birds' eggs,
mice, slugs, earthworms, nuts, snakes, garbage, lizards, carrion—the list goes on and on, encompassing
almost everything imaginable.
Possums also seem to relish cat food. My aunt, a great cat lover, used to feed several semi-wild
cats on the back porch of her Vermont farmhouse. This small porch was enclosed, but she left the door
open to give the cats ready access to the tray of cat food that she regularly placed there. When my aunt
opened the door to the porch one day, she was startled to see a strange creature intermingled with three
or four cats, the whole crew industriously putting away the canned cat food while studiously ignoring
each other.
She quickly deduced that the uninvited guest was a possum, and was a bit wary of it at first. The
possum, however, continued to show up now and then, although not on a daily basis, to eat cat food, so
my aunt soon became accustomed to its presence. Considering the possum's willingness—even eager-
ness—to devour anything even remotely digestible, its predilection for cat food isn't to be wondered
