oh, I should probably take back what I said because it cursed me. You can see it is 3:34 a.m. here in Alabama & tomorrow is a work day--- got woke up, heard chickens screaming . . . no time . . . so with only my underwear, barefoot, raining real hard- outside -I go with ,22 rifle and one of those tiny flashlights. I wear contacts which I take off at night so I have my glasses on-- ya'll know about glasses and rain. A big opossum on the roost, chickens running around in the dark and rain. Well, the opossum is a return from last week that I missed on a good shot so he knows to run. He runs fast, I'm trying to hold the flashlight and shoot. He goes up the fig bush, I shoot, he drops to the ground, runs to the thick brush at end of run, climbs in the trees and bushes. I can't find him so I start gathering up hens in the dark. They're screaming bloody murder.
I'd put down the rifle in a dry spot so I catch all the hens I can, put them back on the roost. I went back with that tiny little flashlight looking up in the trees. I see the opossum in the top of the tree. It was difficult, holding the flashlight on him and aiming at the same time (but at least this third shot, he wasn't moving around like the 2 before), hard rain, looking through those #@%$ glasses standing in mud, I got him. He dropped in the run still squirming.
I am hating opossums now & probably should just say, I HATE THEM TOO and lift the curse. I've still got to go back out in the rain & mud and bag him & count hens to see if there are any remaining in the rainy dark.