ooh. gross.
I went to town to help with the children's summer library program, and when I came back the possum was still there, a little fatter and more "fly-blown," as one says.
And there was a huge turkey vulture in the yard, and I was transfixed and watched it circle the possum and then grab it and pull...ugh and ugh.
The city office finally reopened after their leisurely luncheon, and I told them that they'd better hurry up a bit, that I was having to scare away vultures. I felt as if I were in a lonely cabin trying to keep panthers from climbing down the chimney.
I said, as calmly as I could, that the vulture was trying to drag away the corpse.
She said, "I'll tell them."
Like she cares. I'm beleagured here. I'm warding off predators while she's in her cool city office eating leftover sandwiches.
I bet she doesn't even call anyone. She's probably playing Battleship on her office computer.
That vulture was huge and muscular.
--
Update, 1:40 pm, 93 degrees outside:
A man came by in a truck and got out a pitchfork.
I thought with fascinated horror that he would spear the possum like a hot dog, but he only scooped it up and tossed it into the truck.
I opened the front door and thanked him fervently.
I mentioned the vulture, which I think impressed him.
And there was a huge turkey vulture in the yard, and I was transfixed and watched it circle the possum and then grab it and pull...ugh and ugh.
The city office finally reopened after their leisurely luncheon, and I told them that they'd better hurry up a bit, that I was having to scare away vultures. I felt as if I were in a lonely cabin trying to keep panthers from climbing down the chimney.
I said, as calmly as I could, that the vulture was trying to drag away the corpse.
She said, "I'll tell them."
Like she cares. I'm beleagured here. I'm warding off predators while she's in her cool city office eating leftover sandwiches.
I bet she doesn't even call anyone. She's probably playing Battleship on her office computer.
That vulture was huge and muscular.
--
Update, 1:40 pm, 93 degrees outside:
A man came by in a truck and got out a pitchfork.
I thought with fascinated horror that he would spear the possum like a hot dog, but he only scooped it up and tossed it into the truck.
I opened the front door and thanked him fervently.
I mentioned the vulture, which I think impressed him.