"I'm proud to pay taxes in the United States. The thing is, I could be just as proud for half the money." - Arthur Godfrey

Anybody else remember Arthur Godfrey? ^

So this article showed up in my Facebook newsfeed this afternoon.
I drove Sally to work this morning.
I drove a car with seven of the 14.

I was up early to get extra things done before heading in to Starbucks for my 7 a.m. meeting with Derek. That means I was out in the barn at 5:45 (dark!) to feed the three adult goats. The grain and hay are kept behind a 1/2 wall with a door that opens outward so the goats can't push through it. I'd turned on the light but also had my headlamp on because it's dark back in that area.
Just as I was about to pull the door open I peered over the wall to see a big possum staring back at me! I yelled at him but he just looked back at me; didn't budge.
This is something up with which I will not put!
The pitchfork I use to clean the barn was right there so I grabbed it and reaching over the wall drove it repeatedly into that evil critter. It didn't have the effect I expected (squirting blood and squirming beast) but hey, who can withstand that assault.
So I went up to Barnette to get the shovel, returned, and was met by a possum staring glibly at me from the other side of that wall.
OK, time to pull out the stops.
(I know what you're thinking. But firing a 9mm pistol at 5:45 a.m. didn't seem like a great idea, especially with three goats standing next to me thinking they're about to get grain.)
You know those 5-6' steel bars you can buy to break up hard ground? They typically have a chisel end and a pointed end. I have one of those. It probably weighs 10 pounds. I went back to Barnette to fetch that and DROVE the pointed end into the possum's neck and his belly. It's hard to aim with precision when you're reaching over a wall, but trust me, I nailed that thing!
I grabbed the shovel and tossed the carcass over the fence. Just to give you an idea of his size, he flopped over both sides of the shovel.

I came home an hour ago and went out to see....
he's gone!
How can this be????

If he's back tomorrow (cat food and grain back there) I don't care WHO I wake up, he's going to get 12 rounds at point-blank range.

Frankly, nothing else after that encounter comes anywhere close to being as blog-worthy. I'm going to crash for 30 minutes, go do afternoon chores, and they we'll head to Coburg Hills for our small group get-together.

Evil. Pure evil.