(Not) Attack of the (Not) Killer Possum

So we are camping in a National Park called Booderee (Aboriginal word for plentiful bay) in Jervis Bay, famous for its clear waters. We have just finished dinner of pies (an aussie favorite). Kent is reading in the van. I am sitting outside in a lawn chair in the dark, innnocently enjoying the sounds of the Australian night. I can hear waves crashing, wind in the Eucalyptus, chirps of night bugs. I zone out, completely relaxed with a mug of Australian Pinot Noir in one hand and bread with jam in the other. Suddenly, out of nowhere, I feel a furry little paw on my knee, and a furry little nose nudges my hand. I leap out of the chair, wine flying everywhere, back against the van. There, on my chair is a furry little beast about the size of a cat, with a long tail, stripes, a pointy nose, and little hands, looking quite surprised by my sudden departure... I bang on the van window with a "Kentthere'sananimalouthereandhetouchedmedosomething!!!!!!!!" The dude is still there on my chair, staring, regretting the loss of his strawberry jam feast, took a few steps toward me - I back up again "dosomethinghe'scoming!" - Kent still peering out the window of the van helpfully... Finally dismayed by my lack of hospitality the beast plops down from the chair and ambles away. I dive for the safety of the van, slamming the door shut after me. I did eventually venture back into the night, minus the jam, and moved my chair a little closer to the van... Turns out he was a Bushtail Possum, very common and bold. I'm sure he's giggling all over Aus to his little possum friends about how he chased away the giant in site 50...