If There's Any Justice in the World . . .

Somewhere out there there’s a possum with a hacking cough and a fierce craving.

At some point during the night, an element of the local wildlife—possibly a fruitbat, I suppose, but it seems unlikely. I’m betting possum—made a mad dash for the packet of cigarettes I’d left on the sofa on the back verandah.

Not content with viciously ripping the packet apart, it also chewed the cigarettes themselves.

(Sadly, my first thought was, “Dammit, possum! I’m on a budget!”)

What I’m wondering now, though, is whether this possum was totally lacking a sense of smell?

Perhaps the packet itself looked appealing, but surely once it had torn that open, it couldn’t have found the cigarettes enticing? I know they’re dead plant matter, but do they smell appetising?

The whole thing seems distinctly odd.

I have had instances before now when I’ve emptied an ashtray, left the plastic bag on the verandah, and come back to find that an enthusiastic bush turkey has pecked holes in it and scattered the butts everywhere.

But I’ve always put that down to, firstly, the fact that the butts do look a little like grubs, I suppose, if we accept that, secondly, bush turkeys are fairly stupid.

But this possum with a fierce nicotine craving is new to me.