Can there really be a victor? The possum left it's tell-tale legacy in the yard. Trudy ventured out early, rolled in it & slid back into the house. I was in the kitchen, farthest away from the stink. My four year old waltzed through the living room into the kitchen clutching his nose, "What is that terrible smell?'
"What smell?" I asked as I walked into the living room and was hit with a wall of fetid nastiness.
Dog out. Washed. Washed again. Allowed back inside and documented with a photo.