We were just settling into our truck camper. The smell of warm sewage washing over the Woodfin hills. It was a buggy evening filled with species so vast no one has bothered to classify them. That is when Abbey took off. Our little hunter husky was running around the camper, through the yard, knocking over pots and going wild. She was hunting not hearing a word we said as we tried to direct her to the camper and away from the road. She turned and looked back at us proud with a opossum dangling from her mouth. “Abbey, put that down,” Michael yelled. She spit out the opossum as if to communicate, “it didn’t taste that great anyway.” We all climbed into the camper and watched the opossum from the window hoping he would wake from playing dead. Suddenly he woke, wandering slowly and shocked at first. We discussed what to do if his injuries were severe. Then we checked out the window once more. He was gone. Vanished into the darkness. Just another tale from the Carolina Camper Times…..