Super heroes

Last evening was perfect for pulling weeds. I began in the flowerbed in front of the shed,

 moved on to the raspberry patch, 











finishing with the garden that helped provide healing when I miscarried my last baby. 

With nothing more to weed, I stood, turned and took a step toward the house. And was stopped in my tracks when I saw it-

another possum.

Laying motionless.

Inwardly groaning, I made an about face to head to the back of the shed to grab a shovel or the pitchfork. I would simply add it to the weeds I'd put in the 50 pound dog food bag I'd saved for yard waste.

 As I leaned forward to put the pitchfork under the still body I thought I saw something move. I backed away. Maybe this one was playing possum. I spent a few minutes tidying up and went back to body, ready to get this unpleasant chore over with. There it was again. No way I was messing with a possum that might still have life in it.

I called a friend. Verified I'd made the right decision, came into the house, locked the doors and shut the blinds.

When I came downstairs this morning one of the first things I did was go to the kitchen window and peer out. It was still there. It hadn't moved. 

Thinking "what a way to start the morning", I went out intending to take care of it before I started on my list of things to do today. I walked over to it and saw movement, still. Suddenly I realized that it wasn't a paw tucked up under it's body that I'd seen move, it was babies.

I texted my friend. "It is still there. Is your offer still good?"

"Yep, I'll come get it for you."

He not only came and got it, he took it away to dispose of them.

Some super heroes drive black extended cab pickups.