This morning, a sad face was surveying the back garden from behind bars.
He/she would appear to be a juvenile, so I'm sure the tale is not complete.
But this one is on his/her way up the mountain in the boot of Jeff's car, to be introduced to a new and more liberated way of life. Namely, not in our woodshed.
Neighbour Jim said he caught one a while ago and disposed of it with a baseball bat.
I drew the line at possum carnage.
You'll be glad to know.