Furry Beast


I was, as usual, sitting on my recliner with the laptop when Becky went out to toss a trash bag in a trash can. I had been playing around with Vim, a text editor for those programmer types who love Vi and Emacs and Pine, that sort of thing. You can write all sorts of plug-ins and scripts and things to make it uber-powerful. I was trying to figure out how to make it run Tidy (HTML checker) and capture the output, when Becky came back in breathing hard. “There’s a furry beast in the trash can!” she exclaimed. “With a pointy nose! And it’s alive!”Poor Li'l Possum

“Probably a ‘possum,” I opined, and went out to have a look. Sure enough, a small ‘possum, only ’bout a foot long, including tail, looked up at me, weakly. I snapped a couple pictures and went inside to call humane society. Should I just dump it out? Or should I take it to the wilderness somewhere? They recommended just dumping it out.

So out I went and tipped the trash can on its side. The little feller wasn’t too excited about coming out. I figured he/she was taking it easy, being a nocturnal creature and it was noon under a hot Kansas sun. So I went in and got it some water. It wasn’t too excited about that either. But it managed to drag itself out, and I noticed it was having a hard time just trying to stand up.

About this time it occurred to me it was going to die and, sure enough, a couple minutes later it did.

I reckon it must’ve climbed the chain link fence sometime and fell in, or else some unknown slob put it there. Might have been there a couple days; I think today was the first day we took any trash out since Thursday when the trash truck came by.

Later, I lost my remote control airplane.



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