#as a grown man I’m pretty sure I could not shoot an opossum

[froody]

I have this core childhood memory of my mother handing my father a shotgun and telling him he had to shoot the opossum that had been plaguing the yard for weeks, freaking out the dog, getting in the trash, eating dog food, knocking over the bird feeder. And my dad, drunk and holding a shotgun, straight up bursts into tears. He can’t do it. The opossum is right outside on the bird feeder and my dad, a grown man, is crying and telling my mom he can’t shoot it. I have no idea why my mom didn’t shoot the possum herself, she’s a better shot then my dad and much more accustomed to hunting and processing animals in things. idk if she wanted my dad to feel like a pussy or if she too couldn’t bring herself to end the lovable rogue that lived in our yard but the opossum survived and that’s a vivid memory.

#animal death / #as a grown man I’m pretty sure I could not shoot an opossum #animal I have to eat in a survival situation like a deer or a rabbit or a squirrel I think I could #but a possum? #they have the jester’s privilege of nature