Fibi is a natural born killer. From an early age she exhibited a natural ability to catch squirrels. In her younger, thinner days she was much faster (weren't we all?) and I would take her to Tech campus daily to get in her fill of squirrel chasing. It didn't take her long to determine that the squirrels always ran to the nearest tree, so she quit going directly for the prey and would cut them off before they got to the tree. Smart, no? Squirrels were her main focus, but she would also nab the occasional mouse and even a bird once. I also used to let her practice her skills in Piedmont Park. I was very proud until one day she went after the swans that live in that lake* at the park. Needless to say, witnesses to the incident weren't so impressed; we were fiercely scorned by a very fancy man and I no longer let the dog off-leash in Piedmont Park.
Anyway, we set off for our walk while the snow was falling the past Saturday morning. She noticed a creature's smell coming from underneath some brush in the yard. She froze, cocked her head to one side, and then pounced on the patch of brush. She came up with with some small baby creature, shook it a few times, threw it over her head, shook it a few more times, threw it a few more times, until the thing quit moving. At which point I stopped her, and we went for our walk. I know I'm heartless. She was on the leash, btw, and I just let it happen.
Frankly, I don't like mice. Ever since the Center Street infestation of 2001 (followed by the Center Street mouse massacre of 2001), I don't feel bad for killing mice. But as I was walking I started to think that it didn't really look like a mouse. Granted I didn't get a very good look at the vermin what with all the shaking the throwing, but it may have been a possum. In which case, I am thrilled that there is one less of those in the world. I don't like mice, but possums are my nemesis in animal kingdom.
Well, when we returned from our walk the thing was gone. So maybe the mouse mother came and ate it. Maybe one of the neighbors 99 cats ate it. Maybe the possum's mother dragged it away, buried it in the family plot, and now has a personal vendetta against Fibi and I. Who knows?
* by "lake" I mean that low lying area of the park that is filled with a water-like substance whose main purpose is collecting hypodermic needles.
3 comments:
... or perhaps it was "playing possum" before running away. They do that, you know.
Fibi is my hero!
I think the correct spelling is "opossum". Or something like that.
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