I love most all animals, but admittedly, I’m partial to the cuddly ones… the furrier the better! Had a 17 year-old golden retriever once that shed, the likes of which you’d have to see to believe. But, before I go down that rabbit hole let me get on with a personal tale about our very own armadillo.
Up until recently, the only interaction I’d ever had with one of these ugly armored critters was the sighting of one serving as roadkill. I could tell because it lay next to a street sign, feet pointing up to the sky. I felt only a trace of sorrow since the ‘dillo didn’t meet my criteria: it wasn’t all furry, cuddly and certainly not cute. And once I realized it was an armadillo that had taken up residence right next to my front door, any chance of me feeling even a tinge of pity was less than before.
Location, location, location. My husband and I noticed a heap of fresh dirt appear overnight right next to our porch. It had been dug up along with some deep rooted monkey grass. The mound was created by plenty of moist soil coming from under a huge landscaping rock. There was no way to tell exactly how deep the hole was but judging by the diameter of the opening and the amount of displaced dirt, it was safe to say, this armadillo wasn’t going away. Being clueless about the lifestyle of a ‘dillo we filled the cave in, tamped the earth down and washed our hands of the whole mess.
“There. That will teach him to dig in our yard!”
The only thing ‘Dillo Dan learned was to dig a bit faster. Faster equaled reckless, making the dig site an even bigger disaster! Armed with a garden hose and the sprayer nozzle set to jet, we opened fire into the cavern from a safe distance. Then, we impatiently waited for the water in the pit to bubble up. Next day, the pile of dirt had increased and the size of the den had grown deeper and wider!
Okay, so that didn’t work, either.
I happen to have a guy who specializes in unwanted yard critters. So I called him posthaste and explained the problem I faced. He came out the next day, confirmed it was an armadillo and came up with a plan. He had a nifty cage he would place next to the rock. It would be baited with irresistible catnip for ‘dillos. Then, the trap would be rigged to notify my guy when the opening was breeched.
Brilliant!
Periodically, I would peek at the front door of the cage and after two days it appeared to have dropped shut! Only glitch was the sending unit for the transmitter didn’t work. But at least the trap did.
I called my guy, who came right out and removed a very unhappy armadillo in a very smelly cage.
The critter was a good size, according to my guy. He claimed he had taken ‘Dillo Dan to a wooded park about 10 miles away. Evidently, the memories of these varmints aren’t nearly as sharp as their claws, so the chance of it recalling my address was like no chance at all.
That all sounded like the right thing to do
So long as my guy was telling the truth.
I’d like to think of ole ‘Dillo Dan with his stubby legs propped up
And an umbrella drink in each hand!
