I Think I'll Name Him Grady

Me and the Amazon sat here the other night, watching television when I heard the cat scratching around outside the door to be let in. I absentmindedly got up and started across the living room, almost reaching the door before it dawned on me that I'd buried the cat a few weeks ago.

Earlier I'd carried a full bag of trash out and left it on the porch, to be taken to the curb the next morning. I'm not too fond of heading out across the yard after dark. Ya'll know I've got that irrational fear of snakes. I don't care if it IS winter. Mr. Slitherbritches doesn't have a calendar.

Anywho, so I turned on the porch light and slowly opened the door, to find this:



It's important to note here that no zoom or enlargement was used for the pictures. This pesky little booger was that close to the screen door. After she took these shots, the Amazon banged on the door, yelling at him to "GIT!!"

I swear, it just sat there munching a french fry and looking at her like she'd just fell off the short bus.

Possums ain't skeered. For reals.