"He wanted to trade the deer for me?"
Now Jack's grin looked like it would split his cheeks.
"No, he acknowledged you were too small to be worth a full deer. He wanted to trade two possums for you."
And with that he started laughing so hard he had to sit down in the sand. Sophia resisted the urge to kick him.
"Opossums? Aren't they some sort of rodent?"
"Oh, Miss Deford, I would not trade you for just any kind of rodent! Possums are ugly rodents!" And it set him off into a fresh round of laughter.
--The Bride and the Buccaneer, Darlene Marshall
My elderly, but intrepid, dachshund treed a 'possum last night. Well, OK, "treed" is an exaggeration. She kept him at bay in the woodpile. I recognized her "OMG, I've caught something!" bark and ran outside armed with a broom and flashlight. The last time this happened she'd grabbed an armadillo in her powerful little jaws and was holding on for dear life. Now, many years and fewer teeth later, I feared more for her than the 'possum.
But the critter dashed off of the woodpile and made his escape. I praised my fierce little hunter (for that's what dachshunds are, hunting dogs) and gave her an anti-inflammatory pill so she'd sleep well and have dreams of good hunting.
Possums are a part of Florida life, and Cracker living. In Smuggler's Bride I offer up recipes on how to cook your possum, should you be fortunate enough to have a hunting dachshund who brings you treasures. Just don't send your possums my way, please. I've got enough of my own, thank you.
The Bride And The Buccaneer