It sounded as if something was smacking against the garage door! Apparently someone was trying to get into (or out of?) the garage. I grabbed the phone and my protector and slowly checked all the windows and doors. Then I crept quietly into the laundry room. Yes. The noise was there. I banged on the door; turned on the garage lights from the switch in the laundry room; and yelled, "I've got a gun. Stay where you are."
Silence.
Then I unlocked the door leading to the garage and jumped back. Nothing happened. Nothing was visible through the crack in the door.
I snatched open the door and could see the windows were locked and closed and the garage door was down. But staring me in the face from about 10 feet away was a very angry 'possum. I have to admit I was struck by its beauty. The sharply delineated lines of his color were beautiful. And even angry, his eyes, although beady, were very pretty. I liked this animal. But he had to leave. I couldn't have him waking me up every night. Plus, like all feral creatures, the can be rabid. I had to think of the cat, the dog, and my family. 
The opossum at the right is NOT 'Ol Sam. Just a 'possum.
I was wrong..
The next morning my daughter-in-law and I spent an hour looking for him in the garage. We searched every corner and looked in the top shelves. No 'possum.
That night, well two o'clock in the morning to be exact, the same thing happened again. BOOM! I recognized it this time as the 'possum. I had decided that he was a male and had dubbed him Ol' Sam. Somehow he looked like an Ol' Sam.
Armed with the walking stick, I snatched open the door to the garage and hit the button to open the electric-controlled garage door. I ran around the car yelling. I raked the floor under the car with the stick. No 'possum. This time he had to be gone
The next day I ordered my son to search high and low to confirm Sam had vacated the premises. He hadn't.
Armed with the same, trusty walking stick, my good son found him fast asleep on the floor behind a screen. A very small space only about four inches wide! Son poked him, expecting him to jump up and dart out. Not Ol' Sam.
He became one angry possum. Being nocturnal creatures, the do not like to be awakened during the day. Being of an opposite but equally irritable nature, I understood his attitude at being awakened. Payback is, as they say, hell.
Ol' Sam opened his mouth like a cat does when it makes the battle hiss. It bit at the stick my son used to try to sweep him out of the garage.
After a brief struggle, Good Son, knowing that wild animals can carry rabies and fearing an imminent attack, grabbed a can of wasp spray that was handy and gave Ol' Sam a spray in the face
Better than mace! The 'possum took of at a rapid waddling crawl. 'Possums are slow.
Ol' Sam headed for the woods and hasn't been seen or heard from since. He did, however, manage to consume a lot of cat food during his brief stay. He was the biggest possum I have ever seen in my life. And I have seen many. However, I must confess that most of the ones I have seen were somewhat flat and lying on the side of the road.
I actually miss seeing Ol' Sam. But I do enjoy a full night's sleep
More later....
