I suspect the possums will start to get a clue and mark your yard on their maps with "Here Be Dragons". Sounds like you're in the 'burbs, and thus can't leave the departed in place for a bit for them to get the hint. That worked wonders when I was stuck living in rural Mississippi after Katrina. I only had to kill one each of Possums, Racoon, and and Armadillio. Leaving the remains in place for a bit helped the others to understand that the horse's oats & range cubes were not for them.

Oh my God. I can't believe you're back! Yours was the first blog I ever read, and I read it every day. Thank you so much! And should things with the new guy not work out and the rule against young twenty-somethings be dropped, please drop me a line.

Hey girl -- welcome back. Drop me an email sometime.

Gary the old RightWingTexan

Ya know, you were the first real "blogger" I ever read five years or so ago. From you, I found all the other awesome bloggers that are out there. When you went away, I was truly bummed. Felt like I'd lost a sister. I did a happy dance this weekend when I saw you were back. (My husband thought I was nuts.) Welcome back! For as much as I loved your rants about politics, MM, etc., what I always looked forward to were your posts about Sunny and Digger. And Eomer, of course. Not to mention the fab pics. So now I see a wonderful, funny, horrifying (!) post about Sunny and Digger showing their wolfish sides and I feel like all is right in the world. You rock, girlfriend. I'm so glad you're back.

Great having you back, Rachel. I've had a few changes too -- we're living in Istanbul where I'm ghostwriting novels (two so far) while working on my own, based on my wife's job running the Istanbul citywide refugee program.

And yes, I know what you mean about how you look back on what you did years ago and just think yeesh.

Congrats on the tequila appreciation, mine seems to be sambuca. I beg friends who come to visit to bring me two things: tennis balls, since they're evidently a luxury item here in Turkey -- $15 a can -- and a bottle of sambuca from the Duty Free.

Okay, I admit to being in the half that was laughing, but, it was that special "painful experience made really, really funny" laugh.

I'm glad you're blogging again. Best wishes for fewer dead critters.

Mike B.

Does it make you feel better that I almost felt guilty for laughing my ass off? :)

Dogs and cats must think humans are crazy. Digger just proved He's not too old to defend the pack from invading possums.
My cats keep trying to show me how to hunt by bringing decapitated mice and bloody clumps of feathers, that I assume once were birds, into the house. then look bewildered when I throw that wondrous meal in the trash.

No laughter from me, Rachel. I have pet rats, so reading your description of an injured rat's suffering was very difficult. Thanks for doing what had to be done.

Shoot the damn things rather than killing them by hand. No muss, no fuss.

Use a pellet gun or something if you are in the city.

I laughed heartily at your horror. :)

I never read your first incarnation, but I can see why so many people enjoyed it.

Do as ScottS says. A pellet gun, or a .22 rimfire is a much easier way to dispatch small wounded animals. The animal will suffer less, and so will you.

I'm taping this on the wall, right next to the bugzapper.

I had a big Wiemaraner named Ethel who trotted happily up to me with a still-breathing squirrel in her mouth. After many entreaties, smacks on the head and finally prying her mouth open with my very own fingers I got her to drop it. I, being even more chicken (mmm, chicken...) than you dragged the dog into the house and asked God to make it either get up and scurry away or die on its own. Fortunately for me, it croaked about 5 minutes later.

Don't even get me started about the live mouse she ate.

I, too, missed your first incarnation (but I heard a lot about it over the last couple of years). I thank you for introducing us to Bill Whittle.

That was about the most entertaining bit of blogging I've read in some time -- you seem to have a knack for laughing at yourself, and a gift for description.

The shovel will do the trick at least as well as a pellet gun or .22 when properly applied. I'm sure you did just fine. And if there is a possum superhighway in your back yard it sounds like there won't be one for long.

I'll be back often.

Hi Gary! Hi Clubbeaux! Hi all the rest of you! Dang, this is like the BEST reunion ever.

Regarding the method of shooting critters instead of dropping things on their heads - the ironic thing is that just last Saturday night, I was at my brother's house and we played with his pellet rifle, which with one pump blew the shit out of a full aluminum can (which, by the way, I shot right in the middle on my first try - I hope Rick kept the can so I can take a picture of it for proof). Anyway, he said that it would easily kill small animals. Oh, how I wish I'd had that thing yesterday!!!

Yes I do live in the suburbs and no WAY could I have shot Mr. Possum, even with my .22 Buckmark. I wish I could have, woulda done it in a second.

Interesting that your dogs are not so thorough.

I had a Rottweiler named Brutus growing up and I only saw him catch something once: a woodchuck. I didn't actually spy said woodchuck, but he did. Before I could catch up with him, he chased it down to an open field, snatched it in his jaws and viciously swung it side to side.

I called for him to stop, and after his canine bloodlust subsided he did. The woodchuck had a broken neck however, and with one last twitch gave up chucking wood forever.

I was thankful I didn't have to bludgeon it to death, but I did bury it.

Our dog recently brought a possum right into the house. It too played dead as possums are wont to do and I stupidly thought it really WAS dead. I walked towards it and that's when it took the opportunity to jump up and run behind the monsterous entertainment center in the living room. What joy hubby and I had flailing around the house, each with a broom or mop, flailing and screaming like idiots, trying to coax it out and goad it toward the door. This possum was lucky to be alive after the dog and then our clumsy attempts to rid ourselves of it.

Of course, this doesn't even touch on the subject of what the cat brings in - some dead and some still alive. It's like the Discovery Channel in my own home.

Hey Rachel, you can borrow my pellet rifle as long as you need it. I can bring it over tonight if you want, just let me know.

Sorry but I think that can got thrown away. We'll set up another so you can take a pic to show your 'leet shooting skills.

For the shooting geeks, this is nearly identical to the gun we're talking about:

Rachel's a crack shot for sure. Just to brag on her a bit, I filled a Dr. Pepper can with water and set it about 25 feet out in the back yard. It was about 10 minutes after sunset and the grass was about 5" tall. Not the best shooting conditions for sure. Her first shot hit center-mass and the water sprayed. Her second shot was at the bottom of the can as it lay on it's side in the grass, and she nailed it.

OH SNAP THE GODDESS IS BACK.

We've missed you, dear!

There is nothing worse than opening the back door and seeing my sweet and precious dog happily chowing down on the rear end of a prairie dog.

After I retrieved the (1/3 gone) remains, she wanted to trot over and lick me. Ewwwww!

I don't think I have ever been happier to not be a baby possum.

Ah, dog memories.

Once, when I was out by the creek near my parents' house, my dog brought me a groundhog. Thing is, he didn't look like he was bringing a trophy. He was bringing a toy. And it was still alive. He had been playing with it, throwing it down the hill from about 15 feet up and then skidding down the same hill on his butt after. He picked it up from the rock it landed on and brought it to me.

At what I estimate was about 10 lbs, it was big enough and injured enough to be dangerous (to the 12-yr-old I was then), so I got a big stick and beat its brains out.

Is there anything more awesome than having your big brother brag on your shooting skills? I do not think so. Thank you Rick!

(It makes up for the whole ass-particles-from-someone-else's-fart-in-your-nose phobia I have because of you.)

I'll call ya tonight.

We finally finished our fence yesterday. About an acre and change contained within.

There are entire warrens of rabbits. It's like freakin' Watership Down out there. They've built their rabbit Workers' Paradise in our yard and tonight the dog gets his first taste of freedom offleash in the yard.

He's been growling at the bunnies through the doors and windows since last August.

I have a feeling I'll be feeling your pain very shortly.

Rather tempted to share this with the editors of Dog Fancy. Must refrain...

BTW, I can kinda relate, having found a half-squashed, writhing opossum in the street but lacking a shovel or a brick to put it out of its obvious misery.

Have you ever considered a job in a packing plant?

When I worked in one I enjoyed seeing pigs bleed to death. A real sight to behold. Unless one of the suckers is insufficiently stunned and starts thrashing. Then it is scramble for higher ground time.

And I must tell you that there is NOTHING like the taste of fresh killed meat.

Meat packing plants smell bad but chicken packing plants are the worst.

Oh, yeah. I'm still a carnivore.

Well, welcome to the world of the "interstate" back fence. We have one too, and not long ago I found my pit bull, the lab mix AND the dachshund surrounding a medium sized possum. After the required screaming, carrying and dragging of dogs into the house, I went to check just as you had. Well, there was a touch of blood on the possum's snout, and, like you, I noticed him breathing while "playing dead". Since there's an open field behind my place, and even I'm not stupid enough to grab a mammal with a mouth full of needle-like teeth, I went for the welding gloves. When I returned, the possum had realized it was time to make a break and had bolted from the yard.

He must have told his friends and family, we haven't seen another one since...

Hi Rachel,

I missed your first blog, but really like this one.

FWIW, don't go shooting anything in suburbia, even with a pellet gun. Ricochets are bad news and can easily blind someone.

I grew up on a ranch and am an avid hunter. Killing things is not fun, but hunting is. Knowing how to quickly and humanely as possible dispatch wounded critters is not an option, but a responsibility.

Use a shovel. If the aminal is small and on a hard surface, swing the shovel flat at its head. It isn't pretty but instantaneous. If the animal is larger, or on soft ground, swing the edge of the shovel for the neck. Don't get in a position where you can be bitten - shovels are wonderful - rabies is not.

BTW, aren't you glad your knuckleheads didn't find a skunk?

Another dog story: A friend of mine and his family were east of the Sierras vacationing and their dog rolled in some cow flop. They were apalled and he had to give the mutt a quick bath in an irrigation ditch.

I was rolling on the floor laughing when I heard about it. I said, "cow flop is ambrosia compared to carion. You are damned lucky your dog didn't find a nice dead sheep to roll in." He claimed dogs won't do that, I know better. That is a stink that keeps on giving and does not wash off.

OK fellas. Here's your BIG CLUE! Remember her post the other day about what NOT to put in the personal ad if you wanted to catch her eye? Well here you go. And I am only giving this one away free cause I am in a happy relationship, otherwise I'd use it myself. Here goes:
"I'm the kind of guy who will come over at any hour of the day or night through any weather, who will walk away from the last two minutes of the biggest game of the season to dispatch the small animals your dogs have maimed. Not because I think you can't do it, but because doing it would cause you pain. That's just how I roll. Nuff said..."

Several months ago, I arrived home to find my cat Leo greeting me at the door. He always did that. But this time there was a dead mouse at his feet.

I've lived in this house since 2001 and this is the first time I've seen a mouse inside, dead or alive. Both of my cats have always been indoor cats. So he didn't bring it in from outside.

Anyway, I went upstairs to the kitchen while he proceeded to whale the tar out of the corpse. He eventually batted it upstairs and played hockey with it in the kitchen. I was curious to see if he would eat it, since this was his first kill as far as I know.

But then he knocked it under a metal cabinet that was about an inch off the floor and coudln't reach it. I counted myself lucky that he didn't do that before I came home, or else I would have been puzzled when the house started to stink a day or two later.

The next time you consider getting an animal
companion, I would recommend a more civilized pet.

It's a feline with somewhat dog attitude
and it will take out Chihuahua sized Rats,
and no Squirel will bother a vegetable garden
on it's patrol area. Best of all this pet
comes in any color. And No dog will bother it
when an adult.

I am talking about the Mighty Main Coon.
Imagine a 30lbs of tabby(muscle) on your lap
with enough power in it's claws to rip a 2 inch
steak to bits. And as a bonus I bet you never
saw a cat swim a small brook, Suprise you tabby
will take trout if you have them.

The advice is free, you dont have to thank me.

I can understand your deleting my post.

Most meat eaters do not want to know where their meat comes from.

I would accuse you of being effiminate, but that would be redundant.

OK. I'm an idiot. I missed it the first couple of times I looked for that comment.

I plead the senility of old age and bad eye sight. LOL

Glad I caught it or I would look like a complete idiot. As opposed to only partial idiocy.

M. Simon, ya goofball. I'm glad you caught that cuz I was gonna go all "DUH" on your ass. :)

I love all these animal stories. Y'all are cracking me up! By the way, there was another close call late last night, dogs went at the fence again but I called them off and took them inside. Sheesh.

Your dogs look very wise.

I'm guessing not a lot of folks here grew up on farms.
Have you ever seen the "Dogs in Elk" story? It involves two dogs eating their way inside, and their owners efforts to lure them out before company comes. Funny, not too gross, and possibly true.
It can be read with follow-ups here:

Hey Rachel, we have a Blue Heron here that keeps poaching the Koi from the pond. It seems to prefer dining on the more expensive ones, for what ever reason. Go Figure?

Seeing as it's a protected species and you're apparently a whiz with a pellet rifle in low light conditions, I was wondering if you you might be a good sport and help the Big Blue Devil take his dirtnap. What do you say Killer?

Always best to hire an "out-of-towner" for that kind of contract work. Let me know when you might be available to make the "hit". You said you like dark meat right? I only ask because it's what the job pays.

Have fun ;)!