Long ago, when I lived in south Florida, we had a possum that used to come in the house through the cat door, trot through the living room, dining room, and kitchen, and settle down in front of the kibble bowl for a while. We didn't know this, however, until one night I was sitting up late -- it was about 3 am -- watching an old Sherlock Holms movie on TV, accompanied by one of our 3 cats. And the possum came in, trotted past both of us -- all of our hair immediately fluffed itself up -- and started crunching in the kitchen. Me and the cat both sat there frozen until he finished and trotted out. It was obviously routine for him. That was the last night the cat flap, as we called it, was ever operable.
I like possum - possi.