Gifts from my dog

Caitlin: This morning I had to remove a dead possum from my deck. By myself. It was hours ago and I’m not over it yet.
Hartley: Was it a present from June (Caitlin’s dog)?
Caitlin: Yup, of course. Last night she came into the house all muddy and worked up, but it was dark and I was alone so I just ignored it. This morning, I step outside to find a poor, dead possum sitting on my deck.
Hartley: I’ll bet it was heavy, too. Gross.
Caitlin: Well, it took me 20 minutes to work up the nerve to move it, but when I did it was surprisingly light. And I will say, the tail made a useful handle.
Hartley: Wait, you did it with your HANDS?
Caitlin: What the hell else was I supposed to use??
Hartley: A shovel?? A broom? Oh my god, I’m traumatized now, too.
Caitlin: A shovel is an interesting idea, actually. I was in a rush to get to work and dude, I was freaked out. And, of course, alone. I should note, I used a trash bag wrapped around my hands, so there was no skin on skin action.
Hartley: Oh, okay. I was imagining you hurling it over your shoulder?
Caitlin: (laughs) Like a Continental soldier?
Hartley: I was just going to say that!
Caitlin: (laughs) I’m not a lunatic, Hartley. I mean, it took a lot of courage just to pick it up with trash bags.
Hartley: Wait. What did you actually do with the possum? Just drop it in your garbage?
Caitlin: I put it in the outside trashcan, with a lid. Although, I’m not sure if that was the right thing to do now that I’m thinking about it. Hang on, I’m calling the township to find out…. Okay, yup, just put it in the trash. According to The Police.
Hartley: What a good citizen! Fixing the world, one dead possum at a time.