Possums and bad decisions...Part I

This was supposed to be one blog.  Then I started writing and it just kept going and going, so I split it up.  I haven't blogged in two months, consider this my makeup work.  If you are going to read one over the other, read this one....and then read the other.  What else do you have to do?  And if I weren't so deathly afraid of possums, this blog would have a picture of a possum at the top.  But I just can't do that, and I resent that you think  I should...

We have a possum.  He's not a pet.  He's not wanted, but he is there.  Lingering.  In our backyard and haunting my dreams.  A couple of nights ago, Husband let the dog out to take care of business.  The process was taking a little longer than normal, so I stuck my head out of the bedroom, only to be greeted by Husband with saucer-sized eyes and the warning, "Do NOT go out there!"  I was instantly intrigued.  "Why?  What's going on?" I asked.  "There is a possum out there," he shouted as he searched for a flashlight.  "How big is it?" I asked, starting to panic.  He held his hands about a foot apart.  I shivered.  "You can't leave the dog out there.  They are mean.  They attack.  THEY ARE MEAN!  THEY ATTACK!" I paced in the kitchen while Husband returned to the scene.  They quickly came back inside, and the dog was super excited.  Sweet little Bojangles, doesn't even know he came face to face with the spawn of Satan.

I instantly needed a detailed account of what happened.  I had to know what we were dealing with.  According to the report I received, the possum was up against the fence, and when the dog spotted him, he froze and opened his mouth.  (God, just typing that has upset me more than I can explain).  I told Husband that he probably could have left that detail out.  He got the dog inside, returned outside only to see the varmint climb the fence and escape to the neighbors yard.  They can climb fences.  How great for them.  Husband asked,"How do you get rid of possums?"  Me: "You shoot them...or you hack them to death with an axe."  He frowned at me and said, "I'm not doing either of those things."  Apparently, I married a pacifist.  How great for me.

So now, I can't enjoy my backyard at night.  The possum has ruined that for me.  He is a terrorist.  He has taken away my backyard freedom.  I explained to Husband, that he has to accompany the dog on all nighttime potty times, due to the danger in the dark.  "I can't do it myself, because I just can't take the risk of the stress a possum would put on me at the moment.  I'm just too fragile right now."  On a side note, there is a very good chance, our daughter might be a bit of a drama queen.