Mmm, that's good eatin'!
Libby, our 12-year-old greyhound, wouldn't come in last night. She paced and looked uneasy, then went ptooey and spit out a tuft of long white and grey hairs. I found the hapless possum under a bush, looking wary but unharmed as far as I could tell. It most certainly was *not* "playing possum", but rather was sidling farther under the bushes, carefully not looking at me. I had plenty of time to observe it - possums really are ugly things, rat tails and big juicy feet and all. It was gone in the morning but since they are neither bright nor fast, I'm sure we'll see it again. Why do the bunnies and possums hang out in the one yard that has the giant dog?! Maybe they'd rather deal with a dog than a handful of grade-schoolers...

Libby had some scratches on her mouth, and absolutely *reeked* of wild animal, so I allowed her to sleep far far away from us last night. Until about 4 am, that is, when she barked to let us know she'd tangled her foot up in her blankie again and couldn't get free. Mark actually had to cut the blanket off her. When dogs evolved the behavior of turning three times before lying down, apparently there weren't a lot of blankies around.
- posted by Diane @ 12:12 PM