My family said there was something eating abuela's chickens. They said it only came at night. Said it slunk around in the shadows. My family called it zorro, a fox. Said we would have to trap it and kill it one day to keep the chickens safe. Finally one day, we caught it in a hollowed out log behind the latrines. Finally we had it.
I looked, expecting to see an actual fox. Instead I saw this thing.
A possum. That is a possum, not a fox. I tried not to feel cheated.
My host brother later tied it up to that tree, and we found a neighbor who had a pet boa he wanted to feed it to, so there was that.
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