September 9, 2009

First there is a possum, then there is no possum...

We were calmly walking Koko about ten o'clock last night, when he high-tailed it through the bushes. My compadre, with his long legs, was able to keep pace until Koko and the friend he was pursuing started running a slalom course through a line of shrubs. Wearing sandals and on the whole not given to sprinting, I came around the side of a building in time to see a flash of Lab butt and hear my compadre (invisible behind the shrubs) say, "He got away after a possum, and I lost my glasses."

Soon I came upon a woman walking her dog, barely visible in the dark, pointing to her right.

My quick question. "Had he caught the possum?"


"Oh, good. That means he's headed home."

My compadre and I took different loops on the way to the house to be sure one of us would catch up with Koko. And there he was, nearly to the doorstep, possum in his mouth, stepping carefully to keep the blue leash container from bonking his legs too hard.

We can't actually restrain him once he goes in pursuit of an animal; he's simply too strong. And, as you can see by his smile and bright eyes, it's total joy for him.

The only issue he has with possums is that once he gets them home they refuse to play. He knows they're alive (he pays no attention to dead critters; I've seen him step over dead squirrels as though they're invisible) but doesn't grasp the concept of comatose.

After nosing his new best friend a little more, Koko agreed to go on another walk with me while my compadre got his heavy gloves and carried the possum off to a safe location near the fountain. Yes, I know he looks totally dead, but he was totally gone the next time we checked.

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