When my daughters were young, the house we lived in had a nice fenced yard. We had 2 dogs. A black and tan hound, and a chow chow. The chow chow was more an inside dog, but went outside whenever she wanted. The hound, due to the way it had been raised, not by us, originally had issues with it's food dish. Over time, the chow chow mostly cured the hound of that problem.
Every year, for years, mama opossum would bring her babies to the front porch, where I fed our outside cats, and start them on cat food to wean them. Never a problem. One year, mama opossum didn't go to the front porch, but instead headed to the hound's food bucket. He went crazy barking, and growling at mama opossum, and her babies. She never flinched, and when he put his head down to bite her, she bit a chunk out of his nose. After that incident, he gave her wide berth, and she could have all the food she wanted.
The chow chow was a dainty eater. She'd pick up one or two pieces of food at a time, take it over to a favorite spot, lay down, and eat her food, then go get more, rinse repeat. When she went outside, she continued this. She'd drive me crazy having to open the door to let her in, and out, so she could get a couple pieces of food, then go out to lay down, and eat them. I got the bright idea of putting a small bucket outside for her, with a little food in it. We had a concrete slab for a patio, but it was not enclosed. This is where I put her food bucket. This worked out fine for me, and the dog.
A couple months later, one evening, I was looking outside. The chow chow's food bucket was upside down. Dang, did the bucket just move? I watched. Yes, it moved. I walked out, lifted the bucket to look under it. Nothing there. I set the bucket back down, and walked back into the house. The upside down bucket began moving again. What the heck? I started questioning my eyesight, and/or my sanity, because I had just checked, and there was nothing under the bucket. I continued watching, and the bucket moved again. This time, I walked out, and lifted the bucket. Again, there was nothing there, so I turned the bucket over. To my surprise, there was a baby opossum, spread eagle, paws pressed against the sides of the bucket, so it was suspended in the bucket. It began making noises.
I heard a rustling in the nearby bush. Mama was just a couple feet away making a sound, I had the baby, and it was responding to mama's sounds in return, and I'm in the middle. I quickly realized I had to reunite mama and baby without getting hurt in the process. I gently, but quickly set the bucket on it's side, and backed up. When I backed up, mama opossum came out of the bush, checked the baby over, and they both sauntered off, undaunted, and as casual as you please.
That's my experience with finding a baby opossum.
