So, I’m partly writing this post so that my last post will no longer be on the top of my blog. That’s some picture, isn’t it?
But also, so that you can look at this dog. She looks so innocent, so mild, doesn’t she? We used to call her Finn. But now we call her Possumblossom. And here’s why:
Last Monday, Mr. Hall took Angus and Finn out for their nightly perambulation, as usual. When they came back, he removed their leashes and went to his office. I have not moved from my seat in the living room. As Mr. Hall emerges from his office, I hear…”Oh. My. God.” Then total silence. “Don’t move. Don’t look.”
Okay…..
Apparently Finn found a possum, brought it into our living room, and ate it. Holy shit!!! So, Mr. Hall manfully cleans up poor, wee, dead possum. And when Finn throws up, well, he cleans that up too.
Tuesday night… one more dead possum…. but this time on the driveway, thank God. Um, let’s keep the dogs on a shorter leash, shall we?
Wednesday night… one more dead possum… apparently this one was committing suicide by Finn - just sitting on the driveway waiting for Finn to end its sad existence.
So, last night, I came home very late from work. It’s dark. I walk into the living room, pulling my laptop roller bag behind me. “Oh”, I say, “Finn has been tearing up a stuffed animal in the living room”. Then, it occurs to me… Finn doesn’t have any stuffed animals. I walk back into the kitchen, pulling my laptop roller bag and saying, “Oh. Oh. Oh”.
Les says, “What?”. I say, “It must be a stuffed animal, there is no blood, it must be a stuffed animal.” So, Mr. Hall manfully goes into the living room. Sure enough, It’s a dead possum. So… final tally: One possum family genocide, and Possumblossum gets a mouth check every time she comes into the house.
