THE POSSUM REFERENDUM

(from The Walden Puddle Chronicles, Vol. 1, No. 2)
886 words

by the Walden Puddle Writers Uncooperative


JULY 8, 1999

Since Colonial times, being a possum in Walden Puddle has involved a high degree of risk. When speaking of possums, Walden Puddlers have often used these expressions.

“I whomped it with a broom handle.”

"They're tastier fried.”

"Martha! My shotgun!”

Children in Walden Puddle have had different opinions. Many have nurtured orphaned baby possums, secretly raising them as pets in barns and treehouses.

The children have known something most of their elders didn’t: Baby possums, given half a chance, can grow up as friendly as house cats. Possums are some of nature’s gentlest creatures, getting into fewer fights than Buddhist monks. Instinctively, the children understood that. Nothing so pretty and sweet as a possum could ever wish them harm.

Sadly, Walden Puddle’s children have never formed an influential voting bloc. This happens to children everywhere, often to the detriment of society at large.

In the 1990s, however, things started looking up for the possums of Walden Puddle. Writers, lawyers, disenchanted bankers, and other members of the urban elite began moving north from places like Boston, New York City, and New Haven, in search of rustic beauty and absurdly cheap real estate. A few settled in Walden Puddle.

The new arrivals were often heard to use these expressions.

“Where do they keep their Starbucks?”

“If we don’t like it here, we’ll flip the house.”

“Is that man playing a harmonica?”

The urban expatriates brought with them attitudes that were ... well ... different. Among those different attitudes was a fiercely protective affection for wild animals, possums included.

On April 24, 1999, the Walden Puddle Chapter of Friends of the New England Possum was formed. At the first meeting, Astrid Nilson, M.D., formerly of Brooklyn, now a staff physician at the Walden Puddle Holistic Health Infirmary, made this remark.

“Let’s enlighten these unfortunate people.”

She was elected president of the Walden Puddle Chapter of Friends of the New England Possum — WPCFNEP for short — that night.


The first opportunity for WPCFNEP to enlighten anyone came two nights later, at a Walden Puddle town meeting.

Dr. Nilson motioned for a special referendum that would, if passed, add this article to the Walden Puddle Civil Code:

It is illegal to shoot, harm, run over with malice aforethought, or in any other way impede the Natural Right of possums in Walden Puddle to pursue a lifestyle appropriate to their ancient species, and fulfilling to them, as individuals, in all regards. Violators will be subject to a fine of $5,000 and a minimum jail sentence of six months.

As Dr. Nilson read the proposition aloud, whispers and murmurs spread through the room, growing in volume, sounding finally like a swarm of bees.

It was difficult to make out who shouted what.

“Possum lover!”

“One of ‘em bit me in the ass!”

That was a lie.

“New York radical!”

“Kumbaya to you, lady!”

“The little bastard came back! Bit me in the ass a second time!”

That, too, was a lie.

The chair restored order.

Dr. Nilson was seething. She was a feisty woman who had broken her foot two months before, kicking a heavy examination table. In fact, she had wanted to kick the patient sitting on it. “My beta blockers?” the man had told her. “Oh, I take them now and then. When I remember.”

As he uttered the word remember, Dr. Nilson remembered one of the most valuable things she had learned in medical school. A professor she admired greatly, a true mentor, once told her: “Never kick a patient.”

So she aimed for the table and broke her foot.

The fracture had stubbornly refused to knit, but on the afternoon of the town meeting, Dr. Nilson’s orthopedist had good news. “Astrid,” he said, holding up the X-rays for her to see, “I think we can finally liberate your metatarsals.”

He removed the cast from her right foot.

“But treat it kindly,” he warned her. “This thing is not a hundred percent yet. Don’t go marching in demonstrations.”

Now, Dr. Nilson remained standing as abuse was flung at her from all sides. Every muscle in her body tensed with anger, but she addressed the crowd in measured tones.

“Possums are peaceful,” she said. “They never attack. They’d sooner play dead. They fight only if cornered, as a last resort. They can be tamed. They can be loving pets. They deserve our stewardship, not our contempt. And most certainly not our cruelty.”

“Stuff it in your catheter, doc,” a man bellowed.

That did it.

“If I ever see you in the infirmary,” said Dr. Nilson, warning not just him but anyone like him, “I will personally transfer you to emergency oral surgery.”

Her anger overflowed, demanding an outlet. She stamped her right foot on the linoleum floor.

C-r-r-r-a-a-a-a-c-c-c-k-k-k-k-k-k.

She didn’t let on how much it hurt. She kept talking. After twenty minutes of inspired rhetoric, she had won the hearts and minds of well over half the people in the room.

On July 8, 1999, a special referendum was held in Walden Puddle. Dr. Nilson wore a cast on her foot as she arrived at R.W Emerson Middle School to vote. When she entered the building, her foot activated a metal detector.

But ever since the evening of July 8, 1999, after all the votes were counted, the possums of Walden Puddle have been sleeping more soundly.

During the day, of course.


THE TALK OF WALDEN PUDDLE

The Walden Puddle Chapter of Friends of the New England Possum — WPCFNEP for short —will sponsor a Vegan Cook-Off in the basement of the Lending Library on November 7. Bite-size samples will be offered free. The recipe for the winning dish will be published in the Lifestyle Section of the Walden Puddle Tattler.

Mrs. Agnes Stuart's wild-mushroom cobbler with homemade elderberry preserves has once again been ruled ineligible by the County Health Department.

“I’ll be there anyway,” Mrs. Stuart promised. “I'll set up a table across the street. And I'll have enough cobbler for all.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The Walden Puddle Church of the Definitely Saved will hold a flea market on Sunday, November 8. Both sinners and the sanctified are invited to browse, with sinners politely asked not to touch anything.

“If you aren't saved yet,” said the Rev. Alvin Bisonnette, pastor, “please point to what you want, and one of the saved will show it to you.”

The saved may also purchase a water-repellent yellow windbreaker for $9.95. “We ordered too many. We're selling them at cost.”

Printed on the back of each windbreaker are the words:


LAST JUDGMENT
EVENT STAFF


Get there early. We plan to buy a bunch ourselves. What a terrific idea for a Christmas gift.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

On October 16, the students, faculty, and parents of Walden Puddle High School voted, for the tenth straight year, not to drop football. The vote was again held at the request of the state high school athletic association.

Physicians from the Walden Puddle Holistic Health Infirmary conducted a vivid demonstration involving a football helmet, a two-by-four, and a clear plastic bag filled with raspberry Jell-O.

Their disturbing testimony notwithstanding, the proposal to drop football was defeated by a vote of 251-56.

The Walden Puddle Purple Finches will play their last game of the 2009 season at Muckle Field on Saturday, November 14, against their archrivals, the Migratory Elk of Copious Falls High.

“I am pleased by this rebuke to gratuitous pacifism,” said Bill Router, now in his twentieth year as head coach of the Purple Finches. “I believe we can still win a game this season. If it snows.”

He added, “A blizzard would be best."

The Purple Finches' season record now stands at 0-7. Their current losing streak of 126 games began in 1995. This September, USA Today proclaimed the Purple Finches "The Worst High Shool Football Team in America."

"That newspaper story? It shows you can spin-doctor just about anything in the world if you want to," Coach Router commented.


THE BEARS OF
WALDEN PUDDLE
Notes from the Field, Plus Expert Advice

by Dr. Ursula Whipple

Field journal: October 21, 2009. Bonnie got stung by a bee today. Bears hate that, just like we do. Bonnie started rolling around in the mud, which is what bears do to soothe insect bites, or because they are bored. Big Jack mistook all that rolling around by Bonnie as an amorous signal, and he attempted to mate with her. He was sternly rebuffed.

This carries an important lesson for humans in Walden Puddle, especially for you men. If you are crawling home on all fours from the Village Idiot, crazy-drunk and crazy-horny the way a lot of you boys get on a Saturday night, and you see a female bear rolling around in the mud, do not assume anything. Bears often do this because of an insect bite.

Do not attempt to mate with the animal. You will be sternly rebuffed, just like Big Jack was when he came on to Bonnie. You should have seen Big Jack run like hell. I almost felt sorry for him, but clearly he was way out of line. He had it coming.

Dr. Ursula Whipple is a freelance animal behaviorist and contributing editor of Walden Puddle. Since 1990, she has lived in an abandoned cabin outside town, studying the local bear population and being studied by them in turn. Often referred to, by herself and her mother, as "the Jane Goodall of the North Woods," she has written dozens of articles and poems about bears. She shares her field notes with us twice monthly, because no scholarly journal will publish them.


NEXT POST: November 9, 2009

FEATURING: “Divorce, Walden Puddle Style,” co-starring star-crossed lovers who grew up on either side of the tracks ... in the two bitterest rival towns that have ever existed ... anywhere ... at any time in human history ... Walden Puddle and Copious Falls.

THE BEAR FACTS: Dr. Ursula Whipple explains what happens when bears eat fermented berries. "Bears can get shit-faced just like the rest of us," she says. "If this happens repeatedly to a bear on your property, that bear needs help." Dr. Whipple will teach you how to stage an effective and compassionate intervention.

SPORTS SPECIAL: gritty reportage from the practice field, as the Walden Puddle Purple Finches get ready for their showdown with the Copious Falls Migratory Elk.

CORRECTION: The hated Copious Falls Migratory Elk.


All printed matter in Walden Puddle © copyright 2009 by Walden Puddle Gift Shop. All rights reserved. All photos and artwork reproduced with permission.