Living in a big city may seem like as far as you can get from having wild animals on your property. Earlier this week proved to be an exception. I was coming home from a rare evening outside the house, a business meeting downtown that I had scheduled for after the kids were safely in bed. I hopped off the bus and walked a half-block to my house. Eager to get in and go to bed, I bounded up the first three steps on our front porch, when I saw in front of me a possum, sleeping. The possum will never be mistaken as one of nature's more adorable creations, especially not this urban version. I temporarily weighed the possibility of alternative ways into my house (the back door? a window?), when I decided to get over my uneasiness with rodents and carefully sidestep it on my way up. Startled, it awoke and ambled away. Unnerved by this face-to-face encounter, I entered my home, wondering if there were any orifices between the interior and exterior of the structure large enough for something like that to find its way inside; and, deciding there weren't, was quickly off to bed.