Outing #40: Guido, Bro, seriously

Guido tried for weeks to corner Bobbi’s baby alone so he could kill it, but just recently he seems to have backed-off a bit and seems content /ignoring the youngen’

So I’m just lying here reading this book – which is at the part where cops go in with their first search warrant at the Pickton farm – and I’m starting to get fuckin’ shitty about all the hopping bugs pinging-off the drum-right walls of the tent, when I hear a helicopter approaching from a distance.

I listen; thud-thud-thud, then look out the side window and see the flashing lights underneath as it thuds overhead: green then red then green then red. Either police or some other heavy-duty, very expensive government chopper cause they always make the deepest noise. The cheap hobby/tourist choppers make a much smaller, tinnier little clap-clap noise.

This was a thudda-thudda whumping noise, so a department of *something* vehicle.

Always profoundly intelligent, my first thought is, “Mmm”, followed immediately after by, “should turn-of the head-torch so they don’t spot the light”

I do just that, then sit in the dark looking out and realize those fucking solar garden lights are still glowing like little florescent bulbs, but I can’t be fucked getting out and turning them off so just sit here in the dark; listening to the chopper thunder back around a second time, hoping I didn’t write the wrong dates again at the police station when I got the beakon this time, whatever.

Slowly, my eyes start to adjust to the darkness and there to the left illuminated by the soft glow of the little solar lights outside I see a shape – an animal shape, but since I’m looking through the tent mesh I can’t be sure who it is.

So I unzip the tent. Now I don’t have any light I don’t have to worry about being swarmed by flying bugs.

Sitting there, just three feet from the solar lights is Guido: he’s got his tail curled in front of him, and as the chopper thunders over us again he is just sitting there in the light, goin’ down on himself like a dog.

It’s becoming a common occurrence: Guido hanging around the tent, silently, all night.

I’ll open the door and there’s Guido right in front of me, standing upright. Two hours later I’ll open the door again and there he is a few feet away – just sitting there making no sound at all. Hell look at me, then stare out into the woods.

All night long this goes on: Guido seems to be always right outside the tent, yet – unlike the other Possums – he never asks for any food, never pats at the tent. Sure, if I offer him a buiscut he’ll stomp on over and take it, then he’ll just sit where he is and munch it nice and slow.

I wouldn’t even know he was there though, without unzipping the tent to check.

Outing #40: Guido, Bro, seriously
3.5 Guidos (4 ratings)

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