Possum Pie

For years we have had deer roaming our hillside. Each spring we look forward to seeing the procession of does with new little Bambies and an occasional buck. We chuckle when they pass through the fenced in boundary of our neighbor’s yard to nibble on her latest delicate flowers.

There is the morning ritual that begins with the doling out of dry cat food to the cats, as we watch the sleepy eyed raccoon pop up from his little nest halfway up the hillside. I’m prepared as I huff back up the driveway to chase him away with the daily newspaper.

By noon the turkeys have polished off the latest dusting under the bird feeder and are strutting their way around our yard, evil glaring eyes daring us to try to get from the back door to our cars.

Owls keep us awake at night, blue jays torment the cats and someone in the neighborhood taught the mocking birds early morning wake up calls.

Skunks leave behind odiferous reminders as they pass through the yard, perhaps having been disturbed by one of the six cats that reside at our address.

I cringe when I think of the huge tarantula that I removed from middle of the kitchen last week. It managed to sneak in under the back door. I'm plagued with spiders but at least the termites are gone.

The cats earn their keep with weekly deposits of rat heads and tails on our doorstep. I've learned to look before I step these days.

But here's the latest. I'm searching the internet for a recipe for possum pie...