Okay, I'll toss in a 'possum story or two.

So my current wife Joy and I had just started dating. We're on the way back to my place when in the middle of the road I spy an opossum that isn't doing too well. The thing had been hit by a vehicle, and even though it was half alive, it wasn't budging.

I stop in the middle of the road (I lived south of Olympia near Tenino at the time), hop out of my truck, trusty S&W 5903 in hand, and dispatch the 'possum with a single 115 JHP Winchester silvertip as it snarled at me. Never knew they flashed a bright white light until then. I mean muzzleflash to the nth degree.

Joy was behind me in her car, and asked what had happened. I said "possum". She never said another word about it that night, didn't squeal because I killed something, and said nothing about me carrying a gun. She didn't know I carried until then.

I knew she was a keeper then, but I eventually sold that pistol.

A few months later, Joy and I were at my new basement apartment, spending the evening together, when we were awoken by a scratching sound at the window. I grab a flashlight and spy a 'possum stuck in the window well. I franticly search for a gun quiet enough to shoot the thing with, as I now lived in Olympia, but I had left my .22LR pistol in the truck. Finally I find my .380, just as the bastard figures a way out of the window well. Again, Joy said nothing to the negative about me wanting to take the life of a 'possum. Definitely a keeper, but I later sold that .380.