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Dog Bob

Playing possum …

I’ve heard this expression often. Last weekend was the first time I saw it firsthand. As we were wading through the morning mist at Melton Hill Park, I saw something ambling in the tall grass a few hundred yards away. It was white and moving slowly with an awkward gate. Unfortunately, Ozzy saw it too. […]

I’ve heard this expression often. Last weekend was the first time I saw it firsthand.

As we were wading through the morning mist at Melton Hill Park, I saw something ambling in the tall grass a few hundred yards away. It was white and moving slowly with an awkward gate.

Unfortunately, Ozzy saw it too.

He bolted after it, with Gilligan close on his heels. About halfway there, I realized it was a possum. Nothing to be done from where I stood, so I just watched as Ozzy grabbed it by the neck and gave it a hard, violent shake before dropping it.

Ozzy is a mighty hunter, but I’ve always suspected his hunts were more a zen-like enjoyment of the chase rather than an obsession with the kill. He never seems to capture his prey. But apparently I was wrong about Zen master Ozzy. He was very proud of himself, and by the time I came up on the scene, it seemed pretty clear he’d killed the possum. It’s teeth, much sharper and more menacing than I’d imagined a possum would have, were contorted in a grimace and it looked stone dead.

I herded the dogs away from it and we continued on. But when we returned that way, about 20 minutes later, there was no sign of the possum. It was long gone, and the dogs seemed completely befuddled at its absence. Seems playing possum can be a useful strategy after all …

2 replies on “Playing possum …”

playing possum has saved many in our yard. gypsy used to drag them home regularly and deposit them on the back steps. she was always dismayed to find them gone the next time that she went out. the interesting thing about dragging them home is that you can watch them wake up. it’s a surprisingly slow process and they are totally confused about what happened and their whereabouts. they stagger around unsteadily for some time before gathering their wits enough to move on.

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