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Got home from a grocery run to have my wife announce that a friend had spotted a dead 'possum on our car port. Oh good. It was a juvenile, and did not appear to have been hit by a car or gnawed by a fox or dog, no blood. So I watched it for a while to see if it was doing its famous act. No breathing, nothing going on. Then I pondered whether to boost it in a garbage bag and have it carried away in the garbage Tuesday. I sized up the situation and decided to do what I've done with smaller critters and heave them into a wooded easement across the street, a good distance from houses on either side. I hope the scavengers do their dining duty -- crows, vultures, foxes. As my uncle said of dragging the occasional deceased calf or other critter to the back forty for disposal by vultures, "they've never let me down."
