A swearing squirrel drew me to the screen door. And there I saw, walking across the garden in May daylight, the possum. So I fetched my camera. The sheep says, What the f-f-f-f-f-f-u-u-u-u-u-...?
I didn't got too close, just in case it was sick, and after it got over the frozen-possum attitude, it high-tailed it (low tailed it?) up the fence.
And back down, after thinking about it for a bit. It drooled a little on the way down, which worried me, but I have looked it up, and that is what possums do when stressed. Opossums are very resistant to rabies, apparently.
Then it sprinted across Carlos' yard to its hole in the shed.
Who needs to go camping in Africa?