So…. our older dog came in the house the other night with a mouthful of blood. After checking to see that she was fine, I ventured out into the night to see what she got a hold of. Puddle of blood. Check. Opossum leg. Check. Ugh, she bit the leg of an opossum right off and there it was. I felt bad for the little critter and hoped that he will survive the attack. Maybe we will see him again emerging from the shadows from time to time with a wooden leg, the Opossum Warlord of the neighborhood. Legends are born in this way. This is what I tell myself.
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