It's Gross Ya'll

Lawsy. I had planned to write a long and gut jiggling funny post on the recent possum flinging activities that the Amazon had the pleasure of performing this weekend, but I just don't think I've got it in me. It seems we've got some kamikaze possums leaping to their death in Ozzy's dog lot. There were two casualties this weekend, one carcass not quite making it to the wooded area at the rear of the property where the Amazon was trying to lay him to rest... via shovel and becoming temporarily airborne. As a result, we now have a half decomposed, slightly bloated possum cadaver hanging ominously from a tree in our backyard.

It ain't pretty ya'll.

I guess I really should explain. The best I can figure is, the possums must have been leaping from the tree branch that hangs down over the dog lot, down to the tarp covering the top. The last big storm we had ripped the tarp to shreds and I've not gotten around to replacing it yet. That's the only logical explanation I can come up with to explain why we've found two dead possums in the past four days, obviously having landed flat on the wooden porch in the dog lot and dying there.

It's like friggen Hillbilly CSI around here.

Ozzy is a little disturbed. I checked up on him when I came home from work today. All you could see were his big yellow eyes peering out from the darkness of the dog house. Bless his heart. He probably thinks it's raining possums. It's going to take him a while to shake it off. I mean, can you imagine just kinda hanging out in your little private area, doing your own thing, kicking back, licking bits.... basic day to day dog stuff.. when suddenly possums just start falling from the heavens and landing with a splat where just seconds before you were lounging around with all four paws in the air??

Yeah, he's gonna need some serious therapy.