Last night I had a district meeting of the vast right wing conspiracy club.
I belong to a number of men’s groups, that are involved in mainly charity, but are also social to some extent. A lot of the blogs on my roll to the right extol the virtues of bonding with other men and groups in your community. This I do, and I’ve done for nearly twenty years. If you are moving away from crazy blue states to more sane ones, like Texas, the best way to meet people and make friends is get involved with your Church. I’ll write a piece on them eventually. But let me tell you, these men have been lifesavers, literally. Every crisis I’ve had in the last twenty years these men have been there for support.
Enough of that though, let’s get to the craziness.
So I get back, fiddle with the TV and found my FireTV has added an AppleTV app. So I set it up and discovered movies I forgot I owned. I got a glass of wine, and settled down to watch BladeRunner. Decker was barely in the office learning of new replicants to retire when outside, all hell was breaking loose. Oddly, Jethro was sitting next to me and didn’t join the fray until I waddled outside to size things up.
What I found was Harry Possum probably had ambled along the legacy chain link fence in the front corner, Aria no doubt pounced and knocked him to the ground, where a beatdown was commencing.
Last time this happened, Herself found the possum in the middle of the yard, and the two big dogs were barking like hell and poking at it. It decided to stop “Playing Possum” and became a snarling hissing beast. She dragged them in and it wandered off.
Not so here. Jasper was having none of it, now that he’s big. Old Harry endured a few bite-and-shakes from the little guy before Jet grabbed it like a pillow and went to make off with it. This wasn’t a small critter either. About as big as a cat, a good ten pounds at least.
No way I disperse this melee without some sort of force.
I scrambled inside to fetch a flashlight, and hurried back.
Ohh!…He dead! Eyes open, tongue out. Shit. Gotta grab the shovel.
I had to do the alpha-dog “get away from my kill” thing, scooped it up and dropped it over the fence in the alley, back of the neighbor’s place. Screw it, I’d handle the mess in the daylight. Maybe compost the sucker.
Jet seemed satisfied and followed me back in. The other two returned to the scene of the crime to make sure there wasn’t any pieces left and to revel in their victory.
Soon enough, all were inside panting and helping me watch the movie. I only had to tell them once or twice to knock it off, calm down, and get away from the door.
After our morning walk, as I was handling my morning chores, I went to the alley to deal with old Harry Possum.
And…He was gone.
More than likely, he was merely playing dead, woke up, and walked off. Or maybe Wile-e-coyote wandered by and carried it off as dinner. There didn’t appear to be any fur or pieces around. I suppose I could have walked up the alley and see for sure, but honestly I couldn’t be bothered.
Either way, not my problem anymore.