Friday evening, I let Sadie and Marley (the dogs) out as usual around mid-evening to do their business. Within minutes, a grand raucous erupted, with shrill barking and snarls from the corner of the back yard where we stack the fire wood–, the
“wood yard.”
By the time I could
get the spot light and check out the gnashing of teeth,
the job was fait accompli. All I found was a truly dead possum (as opposed to a possum “playing possum.” ) I will spare the gory details of the possum’s woeful condition, but obviously, Sadie and Marley had done their guardian-dog duty.
Poor puppies, they just do what comes natural. I guess it’s good.
But I sure felt bad for the poor little possum.
- By the end of the evening, Sadie and Marley rested from their exertions.
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