Thursday, May 17, 2007

Of morbid facinations and 'possum flingin'

Be forwarned, I'm about to talk about animal death in a non-sympathetic way.

So apparently a baby possum fell into Ozzy's pen last night and died. This is the second time something like this has happened (last time a rat drowned in his water bucket), and it upsets him greatly. He hasn't left his dog house all day. So after dinner it was deemed my job to go get the possum off of his little porch and move it...somewhere. The destination wasn't exactly discussed, just agreed that it needed to be out of Ozzy's area. So I went out, let him run about the fenced in back yard, grabbed the shovel, and made my way to the crime scene. Now at first, we thought Ozzy had killed it 'cause it had gotten in his pen from the tree above- maybe it was going after his food like the birds do. To tell the truth, I was kind of excited that he had killed something. I know, I'm weird, but I like the idea of my pets having a savage side to them; this is part of the reason why I aggravate the crap out of Yoda until he snarls at me. It's just so cute! I also think that "eat your face" dogs are the cutest ever. Ya know, doberman pinchers, rotties, bull terriers, bulldogs in get the picture. Oh by the way, Aarin, what do you think the chances are that we'll run into your neighbor's dog when I come to visit? Anywho...turns out the possum hadn't been torn into...I know cuz I looked. So I guess it should fell from the tree and died when it hit the porch. Poor Ozzy, possums just fallin' out of the sky...

I approached the possum with caution....I was actually terrified that it was playing dead (that is what they do, after all) and was waiting for Ozzy to leave in order to escape. So here I was, weilding a big ass shovel, just waiting for it to pounce. I imagined it lungeing toward me, leaving me no choice but to smack it with the shovel and starting what probably isn't the first ever game of possum baseball. So after wrestling it onto the shovel (it's foot was stuck in a groove of the porch >_<), I then carried it out and stood there, trying to decide where to put it. I opted to fling it onto the embankment. That's right, fling. The poor little thing was send zinging through the air, much like the cows and ducks in Monty Python and The Holy Grail.

I think I'm going to a special hell lol.

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