A story my Dad told me growing up during the depression.
When still at home he killed opossum, brought home cleaned it and gave it to his dog. The dog would not eat it. So he got my grandmother to parboil it and gave it to the dog again. The dog still would not eat it. Made a mental note, anything the dog won't eat he was not going to eat it either.
Back when I was growing up in the 1950's and 60's, the local Blacks would take any possum they could get, along with rabbits and squirrels. I know because I supplied many of the.. My grandfather had hounds back in his day, and did a lot of coon and possum hunting. The coons he would sell for the hides, the possums would in a pen, and be fed straight corn for a week or two, then sold to the Blacks. I also knew a few White people who said they loved a baked possum, cooked with sweet potatoes. My daddy said that he'd seen too many possums feeding up in the belly of dead horse or cow for him to ever want to eat one. I agree.
