I informed her that the animal was a marsupial, and unfortunately for her and the opossum, it was likely carrying babies. Inside its pouch, Mom. They're probably still in there. So I couldn't, in good conscience, 'stop' until I got them out safely.
And though I did bring the bloody opossum inside my mother's house, after enlisting my brother's help in holding down its limbs while I extracted the babies, and I did eventually stain our family's Toyota Sienna transporting us all to the local Wildlife Center, my mother understood that despite not being what she had envisioned-I was her daughter.
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