It's a chilly, beautiful morning here. I was up and out in the shop at 4:30 trying to get a kiln going. Out in the early morning darkness of the back yard, the dogs got ahold of a possum. Before I could stop the action, Breeze had rubbed both sides of his face in the stuff he'd just scared out of the possum.
He smelled so bad that he had those stink lines radiating from him like stinks do in the comics. So, instead of finishing up the glazing, I spent the first half hour of the morning bathing Breeze.
And the possum that the dogs had killed -- the possum I saw in the dim circle of light from my flashlight, lying still on its side with its eyes glazed over? It got up and walked away while I was in the shop washing Breeze's face. The dogs are obviously not exactly deadly assassins.
11 hours ago