We had been away for a few days. Walking down the side path, checking the garden, there lying on the ground was a ring-tailed possum (Pseudocheirus peregrinus), as if asleep, though dead. It made me twinge.
Why?
There were marks in its fur. Claw marks? Bite marks? From a cat?
I couldn’t leave it there so tried to pick it up, a large leaf for a shroud, to bury it with more dignity. Its claws were hooked around the cross bars. Had it gripped in resistance to the attacker or had its claws fallen between the bars after it died? I unhooked them and placed the body in a shallow grave in the garden bed.