The ever persistent opossum.
Yesterday I felt bad about a possum our dogs apparently killed. They dragged it into the greenhouse (really it was not "they", it was PITA) and knowing that possums play possum (play dead) I handled in carefully and moved it to a brush pile. I could swear I saw some body movement, so I expected it would move on.
An hour later, the dogs had it back in the greenhouse and this time it really seemed dead so I buried it under about a foot of wood ash. This time I just grabbed it with my bare hands because I was pretty sure it was gone. I was not burying to keep it in, I was burying in ashes because I thought the lye would keep the smell concealed and the dogs don't like getting ashes in their noses.
A half hour ago my mother-in-law told me loudly that there was an animal at the sliding glass door. I am 99% sure it was the possum I buried yesterday. She came up to the door, looked in and then walked away. Was she coming to tell me, "I wasn't dead Turkey"?
I am pretty sure she was the same one, because of size, she went straight to their normal hiding place and she was wet from having cleaned herself off. There is no other reason to be wet today.
Luckily the dogs were on a "walk about" so I escorted the possum back up to its hiding place under a dog house we have up the hill. To soothe my guilty conscience, I brought her some dog food to munch on. The wonders of nature.