Possum playin'

SOMEbody carelessly left some yard tools on the front porch, and a few minutes ago, they fell over. Which was odd, because even though they were improperly stored, and it's pretty breezy, the clatter didn't sound like the wind had done it.

So I put on my shoes and went out to check. I saw the dog walking away, and then I saw, under the shovel, a big ball of fur. First glance was to make sure it wasn't one of the cats. Second glance was more nervous, because, it wasn't one of the cats, it was a possum. (Opossum for some of you.)

It sure looked dead. I thought, maybe the dog had nailed it; wouldn't be his first. No response to nudging, but you know, possum.

Took the shovel off of him and used it to flip him over so I could get a good look at him. He was a big guy, bigger than our biggest cat. I was kind-of glad he was dead, but of course I was going to have to figure out what to do with a big possum corpse in the middle of the night. He laid there, unmoving, tongue lolling out.

Started to maneuver him into the scoop of the shovel when he woke up, or decided he'd had enough, got up, and sauntered off into the dark.

Hallelujah! It's a miracle. I didn't have to dig another hole tomorrow, and I could take off my shoes and go back to bed.

Yeah, wasn't all that exciting; but, stimulating.