The O'Possum World On My Shoulders

I just saw an opossum (does anyone ever really use the "O"?) ambling along the top of our privacy fence that separates the office patio from the small, evangelical (somewhat hostile) church next door.  At the end of the fence, a big gray and white tom cat watched and waited.  I couldn't really tell if the cat had murder in mind or if he was just as surprised as I was to see the guy up and about at 9:30 in the morning.

By the time the opossum (I can't help it...I have to use the "O") made it another foot in Tom's direction, he smelled something amiss.  He paused and sniffed the air.  Then the O (I'll just call it that) turned around and headed back into the opposite direction.  Tough Tom sauntered along after him, not looking particularly dangerous.  O. reached a crepe myrtle tree and began his descent.  

That's when I gave up watching.  If something bloody was going to happen, I didn't want to spoil my morning by intervening.  It's hard to have the weight of the opossum world on your shoulders.