The other night, K2 was putting the ducks in the coop and as she was closing the door, she noticed what she thought was a cat in the coop with her ducks.
Only it wasn't a cat.
It was a possum.
I know you're supposed to call them O-possums, but the truth is, out here, no one has seen or heard that O in maybe a century. They're possums. The end.
Anyway.
It was a big one. K2 screamed for help and Eric came running to take care of it. He got K2 and the ducks out of the coop and dispatched it with a shovel.
Possums die hard.
Seriously. It's almost impossible to kill one. It's the possum superpower - near-immortality.
Last year, during the winter, when there was snow on the ground we came home one afternoon to find one trying to get into the coop. I dispatched it with a shovel. Then I left it for a minute. When I came back it was alive again. So I dispatched it again, with emphasis. And when I was done, I tipped a bucket on top of it and put a big rock on it so that Tibby wouldn't get it. When Eric came home and took off the bucket, the damn thing was alive again. So Eric dispatched it again. With emphasis. Permanently.
He did the same thing with this one.
Geez.
