Well it turns out the possum is playing possum. I do think he's near his last breath though. Hubby told me we had to kill it and put it out of it's misery. I can't do it. It's slowly creeping but I swear it looked deader than a door nail. I tried talking Alex into it. Told him I'd do his last chore for him if he did it. Nope, no go. Morgan volunteered to do it so we stood in the garage with hubby on the phone contemplating weather to use the machete, axe or shovel and planning the murder of the poor possum.