Sunday was "possum night out", I guess. Two of the critters decided to dine with the cats. I KICKED the big one before it ran off a bit, but it came right back.
I called my hay man to see if he had a gun, but he turned out to have a feeling for leaving the wild things wild. Well, if they'd stay wild, so would I, but when they move in and start robbing from the helpful animals and giving weird diseases to the horses, I don't want to co-habit any more.
So, I called a fellow down the road the other way, who also owns horses. He came up with a colt and some ear plugs. Both Mr. Big and Miss Middle Sized possum were in the cat food. Big crawled under the front steps, where it was too dark to safely shoot.
Out came pans of hot water. He bolted around the corner and underneath the trailer, and the fellow didn't have a clear shot, so he didn't take it. Little one was not as fast, and he got off two shots right before it ducked under the trailer, but not a clean kill. He thinks he winged it, but I am not sure.
The past two nights, they have not come to share. He said if they did, he'd come up and try again, further from the trailer, so I am feeding the cats on the old stump. I haven't seen them get up there, yet.
During the summer, I fed the cats on the hood of the little car, which was not driving anywhere most of the time.
I told Jess about them when he called, and he suggested bludgeoning them to death with a shovel like he once did. He tends to forget that I am not as fast as he is...
Stabbing one like Mitch did in the barn when they had a nest in the hay is pretty gross, too.
Colts work for me, especially in the hands of someone with some caution about where the bullet might end up if it misses/bounces. (Go ahead and laugh. You know what word I wanted, but couldn't spell!)