FINALLY Better

Being sick is simply a waste of time. I felt guilty about doing nothing and not being able to go to work. Unfortunately, at any point when I tried to accomplish anything other than watching television or sleeping, I was seized by a coughing fit.


I am certainly glad that is over and I can get back to living my life.

I was able to visit with my horse this week. She is so pretty and in need of several hours on the receiving end of a curry comb. My warmblood has her fair share of hair. Brushing her is a labor of love. I love doting on her and she loves the attention.

My pups are pleased with my recovery and the warmer days. They have enjoyed several opportunities of evening walks through the neighborhood. I've enjoyed the exercise, too. I read somewhere once that if you have a fat dog, then you aren't getting enough exercise. Lately, I've noticed that Baxter could stand to skip a treat or two. I could, too. So, we've taken to getting out the leashes and walking.

The warmer weather also means lots more rabbits. My backyard has become the neighborhood rabbit romper room. My pups love chasing them in the yard. Luckily the rabbits are quick to escape. Lucy has come much closer to getting a squirrel than a rabbit. I don't even think the rabbits put forth 100% effort in their dash around the yard. It sure is amusing to watch.

Possums are a completely different matter. Several weeks ago, as my husband and I returned home from an evening on the town (Taco Bell and a movie) the car headlights caught the unmistakable figure scurry in front of the garage door and across the front porch. My lip curled in utter disgust and my stomach lurched. Although I am an animal lover and would cause a car wreck before I ran over a squirrel, in my opinion, the only good possum is a dead possum. To think that one actually lived anywhere near my home, even now sours the back of my throat.

A few nights ago, I had let the pups outside, as I always do right before we head for bed. Giving them sufficient time to accomplish their business, I called for them. Neither one came running. This was typical behavior for Lucy, but completely out of the norm for Baxter. Then, I heard Lucy bark. It was a single, sharp bark, just on the bark side of a yelp. Definitely more "Hey!" than "Yikes!" I saw her jump backwards away from the bushes on the far side of the yard. I did not see Baxter.

I called from them several more times. Lucy would run toward me and then right back to the bush. Obviously, there was something lurking there. Even, Ray Charles could have seen that. So, I grabbed a flashlight and ventured out to retrieve my dogs.
Sure enough, Baxter was frozen stiff all of his attention focused on the creature in the bush. Lucy was excited. She ran to me and back to the bush and back to me, seemingly saying, "Come, check out this really cool, but kinda scary animal we have captured."

My light tentatively pointed into the bush and slowly followed the branches until, there it was, the most vile of God's creations, a possum, which I consider to be nothing more than a twenty pound rat. It's mouth gaping in the hideous snarl. Baxter stood rigid and I had to reach into the bush and physically grab him to get his attention. Even then, he did not want to leave his treasure. Lucy pounced around having the most exciting time of her young life. I just wanted to get as far away from that nasty thing as possible.

Just this past Sunday evening, my neighbor came over for a visit. We sat on the front porch enjoying the day and petting the pups. Lucy eventually made her way to the edge of the porch and peeked over the side. Something caught her attention. As long as she stayed on the porch, I let her do her thing. Baxter then noticed and all I saw was their behinds in the air as they strained to reach whatever it was without getting off the porch. A quiet growl and Lucy jumped down.

I sprang up, completely suspecting they had discovered a possum. They weren't dashing and searching as they would have been for a rabbit, their attention was stationery. I peered over the edge and saw a ... that's right, a possum. It was frozen and laying on its side. Its back end and rat tail motionless. It front end was hidden under the porch. Initially, I couldn't tell if it was dead or playing possum. My neighbor came over to check out the novelty and indicated there were flies. Still, I wasn't sure. Flies and possum, don't they kind of go together?

When I noticed the squirming maggots, that's when I was for certain it had scurried its last. My neighbor, to my envy, decided that it was time to leave. I took my pups inside and informed my husband that there was a dead possum beside the porch.

I love him, bless his heart. He simply looked at it and suggested Animal Control.

Off to the shed for a shovel and garden claw I went while simultaneously giving him instructions to retrieve a trash bag. The following day was Monday, trash day. This thing would be ready to go.

As I slid the shovel under the rump, I determined that it had been dead long enough for rigor mortis to have come and gone, but not long enough to have the skin slough off. The hair was just beginning to fall off in tufts. Unfortunately, the head end was lodged in the lattice under the porch and it required some effort with the garden claw to free it. I was oh so careful as to not puncture the skin as I didn't want any of its insides on the outside. With one hand holding the shovel under the rump and the other hand holding the claw, I picked up the possum using my tools as a set of giant chopsticks.

My husband encouraged my efforts with comments like, "You're a better man than I am." and "It's Karma. You always said the best possum is a dead possum."

His only job in this endeavor was to hold open the trash bag, which he did using two fingers and an outstretched arm.

Once the thing was in the trash bag, my wonderful husband deposited it into the trash bin and closed the lid.
 
Less then 24 hours later, it was on its way to the landfill.