An Old Opossum

Needham Opossum was one old opossum. The end of his tail was missing, his ears were notched, his canine teeth had cavities, and his lower jaw was marred with a partially-healed wound.

His skull, as it turns out, is full of holes.

Seventy days after finding this opossum dead on the road, I pieced his skull back together. The braincase had separated from the rest of the skull, and the zygomatic arches had detached -- normal, it turns out, for opossum skulls, regardless of whether or not they're road casualties. What isn't normal, though, are the holes and pits that cover the right side of the opossum's snout.


Mr. Opossum likely had a nasty injury from which he never fully recovered. So infected were his wounds, even the root of his upper canine tooth -- visible in the picture above -- was severely deteriorated. The afflicted bone is thin, spongy, and delicate. I imagine life for this opossum had to be quite painful.


Opossums don't live for very long, in fact, they're quite lucky if they make it beyond a year. According to Animal Diversity Web, the oldest wild opossum was three years of age when last captured. And yet, I wonder -- how old did Needham Opossum live to be? Had he not been struck by a car, would he have lived much longer?

Needham Opossum

On March 26th, a large male opossum was hit and killed right down the road from my parents' house. That day was also Steph's birthday, and she was a wonderful sport.

After his death, this opossum became rather well-traveled. After retrieving the body from the road, we brought it to the Matthaei Botanical Gardens to do a brief photoshoot.

Once finished, we made the drive back to my parents' street, and placed the body in their backyard for further decay. For a few weeks, it seemed like no sort of decomposition was taking place; sure, the color in the opossum's nose had faded, and the fur was soggy from rain, but no other changes seemed obvious. On one particular evening after a day of heavy rainfall, the slanting sunlight hit the carcass at just the right angle, making the beads of water that clung to its fur sparkle -- I kicked myself for not having my camera with me at the time.

Finally, the hair started to fall from the skin, and on a warmer day, the flies and carrion beetles arrived.

Day 16

From that point on, decomposition happened fast. Crows and, most notably, turkey vultures visited my parents' backyard, picking at the carcass. It moved from place to place, decaying more and more every day.

On Day 29, the opossum's body smelled so bad that I could hardly stay still long enough to take any photographs. I've worked around plenty of fragrant carcasses, but on this particular day, the odor was at a level I'd not yet experienced.

Day 29

April was a very rainy month. We had several torrential downpours, which only made the opossum appear more grotesque. By Day 34, the carcass, which never truly bloated, had collapsed and begun to liquefy. Bones poked through the soggy skin, and the odor, thankfully, lessened.

Day 34

As the flesh began to peel away from the skull, it became obvious that this animal's head had been crushed when struck on the road. By Day 37, the skin had shriveled and turned black, giving the opossum's mouth a somewhat terrifying-looking sneer.

Day 37

When I visited the carcass this morning, it was little more than a skeleton half-covered in a thin layer of mummified skin. A few beetle larvae crawled across what was left; it's interesting to note that not once did I see any obvious sign of maggots in or around the body.

Day 40

I will continue to keep a close eye on this opossum. The body has proven to be a fascinating subject for observation and photography, not to mention a fragrant gardening companion.