Friday, February 26, 2016

Armadillo Eradication

This is something that I wrote back in 2009, it was a fun story to write.

Picture this, acres and acres of beautiful manicured lawn (Ok, maybe more like an acre of slightly yellowing grass) that looks like it has been busted open with a breaking plow. Yes, this is my yard, and Armadillos are the culprits. I have had an eye out for them for weeks now and they keep sneaking in and wreaking havoc on my grass at times unknown.

About 6:30 one evening last week I pull in the driveway and low and behold there is a Diller in the yard! "Finally! I will have my revenge!" I ease into my parking spot and Mr. Armadillo spooks and runs under the front porch. I decide my best course of action is slip into the house and get my trusty Charter Arms snub nose .38 Special and my Coon hunting light.

I grab the pistol and the light and notify Jessica that she will be hearing a loud bang momentarily. I cautiously go back outside and he's still under the porch. I decide my next step will be to jump up and down on the porch a few times and "Run em' out" and shoot at him as he was trying to make his getaway (I was hoping and praying he wouldn't dash for my new truck or Jessica's new car as that could end in catastrophe).

Well Mr. Armadillo apparently was perfectly happy to stay in his comfy little area under the porch. At this point it time I'm very close to letting a couple of rounds fly under there and hope for the best. Finally after several more attempts of jumping on the porch I get on the ground eye level with him and he starts coming RIGHT AT ME, now I'm not easily scared but everyone knows a cornered Armadillo is nothing to sneeze at, so I'm doing the reverse belly crawl (back crawl?) and all of a sudden he switches direction and darts out from the other side of the porch. With my best Rambo roll/jump/fall/run I cut the corner of the porch just in time to see him loping across the yard at about 37 feet. I let one rip out of the ever faithful .38 and see dirt fly. I reckon I scared him as he stopped right out in the wide open. This is where missed shot #2 occurs, I guess he figures he better get a move on again and he takes off toward the woods. Right as he gets to the wood line I let miss #3 rip....Now I'm starting to get a little worried, I only have 2 bullets left and I have a crazed shot at Armadillo in the woods. I bail off in the timber and catch a glimpse of him, I shoot and miss #4 happens. He stops almost daring me to try that last time. I change my strategy a little and decide to sneak a little closer (I'm already at about 15 feet, I figure at 10 feet there's no way I miss) I get my sneak on and right at the 10 foot mark he jumps straight up and takes off, BANG and yes you guessed it.......Dead armadillo #1, hit him in the head just as he was about to get out of Dodge.

I climb the steps and go into the house valiantly like the hero I am. Jessica said "Did you get him?" Well yes I sure did. My ears are ringing to high heaven and I'm covered in dirt but I have conquered.

After I shower we decide to go to our often frequented favorite place to eat "Hill's Wings and Things" where my good buddy Alex Hill is the Proprietor/Chef/Truck Driver.

As I walk out the front door I notice a grey blob over on the opposite side of the yard. You guessed it, culprit #2!

I tell Jessica to hold still and slide back into the house to locate a gun with bullets in it as my .38 has run dry.

I settle on my coon hunting gun, a Remington .22 auto. As I walk back outside I go to turn on the porch light only to find it is blown.....I guess I'll just have to go for it on a wing and a prayer. I tell Jessica "No way I miss this time" as my Remington speaks the Armadillo does the death flop and all is right in the world again, Clyde-2 Armadillos-0. I have won the battle, but not the war.

Alright Then 

Poetry, maybe?

This was actually on my Facebook "memories" this morning from this day back in the winter of  '012, a friend challenged me to write a poem and as you'll see, a poet I am not.



I've been saved by the Grace of God and listened to ol' Blue praise the Lord, I've nearly drowned in swamps in three different states, I've hit homeruns on balls two feet off the plate. I've been a son and a father and a husband to one, a sinner and a saint from both which I've run. I ain't out for adventure but it's just my fate. I've walked a million miles behind ol' Blue and spent the night in jail a time or two. I've drank one too many several times but never lost my way, never got blind. 

and I get the feeling this should continue.....apparently I drew a blank back in '012. I'll add more later, maybe?