A possum was the only animal I've ever hit with my car (I've had serious close calls from dogs, cats, squirrels, deer, coyote, and one bobcat). I tried to swerve but hit him and immediately pulled over. His legs were smashed beyond repair and there was no hope so I sprinted down the street to my friends house where I was headed, grabbed his BB gun and shot the possum so he wouldn't suffer any longer. I hated everything about that and I still have... like.. mood flashbacks and get really depressed about it.
His eyes, I could see he knew what was coming and neither of us really could do anything about it. It was so senseless. I wouldn't feel nearly as bad as I murked him quick and was going to eat him.
Funny little creature. He only lives 2 to 5 years. But he grooms him self like a cat the hole time and ends up eating 5000 ticks a year. Chances are there was a tick with Lyme disease that had your number and this little guy ate it and saved your ass. He might not be pretty but if I see one in my garbage can I just smile and let him be.
Comments