Well, for almost seven years (6 times longer than expected to live) we
had an opossum living in our brush pile out back. He was a big old
thing and would come out the same time every night, first sit in the
mesquite tree, then down to the sunflower seeds, then scouring the
entire garden for things to eat. I never minded and now and then he
had his armadillo friend join in the eats!
Last week my husband came in and said the opossum was very near the
house, about 10 feet from the back door, deceased. He must have just
died there. He had no attack or injury, but he lived much longer than
this animal normally lives in the wild...if you could call a cushy
brush pile with tons of food "wild."
So, my dear husband buried him. I asked him, where did you bury him?
He said, in the garden. Yow! So, I am fully prepared to forget by
spring and fork up the remains. It's just the cycle of life.
Everything dies eventually. Not spiritually, but all physical bodies