Two days ago, as I was driving up to the casa, Clint, our wonderful landlord informed me that one of the dogs had "taken a bite out of a copper head." This did not kill the animal (immediately, anyway). Mostly out of protection for the dogs, he deposited it in the dumpster both households share. I haven't seen too many venomous snakes outside of a glass zoo cell. It was both fascinating, and a little sad. I'm not sure if it's alive, but if it is, it's new home is the Denton County waste facility.
I actually have a photo of our other friend. This one's alive, although you could only tell this by the fact it was breathing so heavily:
Yes, between the grass mulch and our compost bucket is none other than a possum. Well, the bottom half of one anyway. Again, I'm sure it's alive, although that was more questionable this morning. I saw this little furry dude in front of my car as I was pulling out of the driveway, in plain sight of the dogs. Rachel said that it was given a good chase when she went out later.
I've long held that I was more city folk than anything else, but that seems to be changing, as I find myself resisting the pull of the city for a closer commute and the possibility of ditching the car altogether. I'm surrounded by so much life out here, its very energizing in a lot of ways. A dwelling has never left me in such awe of so many commonplace yet magnificent realities of nature.
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