So much for sleeping

Tonight I took a break from studying to indulge one of my vices. Outside I heard a terrible gurgling, rasping sound coming from the street below. Then I saw its source: an opossum moving erratically down the sidewalk. I ran downstairs to see what the deal was. The poor little thing’s snout was bloodied, and its breathing was painfully labored. I ran back upstairs to call the police — yes, the police (the only animal control number I could find led me to voice mail). The nice man on the other end told me he’d dispatch someone right away. That was more than an hour ago, and I haven’t seen anyone show up to investigate. I went back down to the street to check on the wounded — and I can only assume dying — creature. It had found a little shrub to hide behind, but I could hear its pathetic attempts to draw air from several yards away.
You may be thinking, “Chill out, woman. It’s an opossum for God’s sake.” But I doubt you’d say that if saw how scared it looked. Poor little dear.

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