Tag Archives: armadillo damage

Armadillos in the Yard

armadillo removal

As a recipient of many, many boring videos from Grandpa, I’m so grateful he and Grandma now have armadillos in their yard.  Grandpa retired about five years ago.  It almost drove him crazy, and it almost made Grandma homicidal.  Grandpa is the kind of guy who just wasn’t cut out for retired life.  He needs to always have a project, a hobby, ways of filling up the hours of every day.  He was born towards the end of the Great Depression, and his parents were extremely hard working, frugal people. So, that’s how he grew up.  He worked hard his whole life, threw himself into whatever he did.  He was an engineer who helped build water systems for cities, pipelines and dams.  Even though he had a demanding job, he would come home and spend hours working in the shed, tinkering around with one thing or another.

He didn’t want to retire, either.  But, Grandma was tired of moving around from city to city every few years when an engineering project was complete.  She wanted to live near her grandkids.  So, after a few years of back and forth between the two of them, he retired.  His eyesight had already started to fail him, so tinkering around in the shed or work room became more and more difficult.  He drifted aimlessly around the house, getting in Grandma’s way, and starting one project or another, and then losing interest in it.  He needed a hobby, and he needed one soon, or things could go horribly, horribly wrong.

My Dad got together with my aunts and uncles, and they all decided to chip in and buy Grandpa a new video camera for his birthday.  He loved it, and started filming everything.  One of my cousins got the not-so-bright idea to show Grandpa how to edit the films and email them.  Soon, our emails were flooded with videos showing Grandma planting tulip bulbs, the dust in the chimney (seriously, we got a video about dust), and videos of photo albums.

Then, the day arrived when Grandpa discovered armadillos in the yard.  It gave him an interesting subject.  He documented the scrapes the armadillos made in the grass.  He lay in wait until they came out and filmed them scuttling around the yard, foraging.  He showed how they lived under the stairs.  They even came right up and sniffed his boots, and he got that on film.  Of course, he had to explain that he was sorry the lens cap was in the frame, but the camera was pointed straight down and there was nothing he could do about the dangling lens cap.

Grandpa’s editing techniques leave a lot to be desired, and certainly his narrative could be livened up.  However, with the armadillos in his yard, at least his subject is a lot more interesting.

Armadillo on the Lawn

armadillo removal

A new puppy and an armadillo on the lawn do not mix.  It’s getting to the point where I hate both.  I’ve always considered myself an animal-lover, but this new drama between a rowdy puppy and a destructive armadillo on my lawn at two in the morning is starting to take its toll.

 

We already have a small dog who prefers to stay indoors as he is aging, but as he gets older and more sick, he prefers to be left alone.  I had the not-so-brilliant idea that we should get another dog, a puppy that could grow with the kids.  The children could play catch with it outside, I’d get more exercise as I took the dog out for walks, and it might ease the imminent trauma of losing our current pet.

 

So, we got a boxer/terrier puppy mix.  We found him at the local shelter, and I could not believe how beautiful and friendly he was.  Then, we took him home.  He is a forceful ball of non-stop energy.  He makes the children happy, when I feel he’s safe enough for them to play together.  Most of the time, he just tries to chew everything and everyone in a playful way.  He’s like a small tank with happy genes, and he never stops.

 

You can imagine, then, the racket that woke us up the other night when our puppy discovered an armadillo on the lawn.  It had already been a long day at work and with the kids, and I didn’t get to bed until late.  When the puppy started barking sharply and constantly, it woke us all up, including our ornery old indoor dog, who started howling, angry at being disturbed.  I felt his pain.  If I could have howled, I just might have.

 

I threw on my robe and slippers, and rushed outdoors, trying to quietly yell at the dog to shut up so I wouldn’t wake up whichever neighbors had managed to sleep through the earlier noise.  It took a while for me to understand why the dog was so noisy.  We had an armadillo on the lawn.

 

The puppy seemed satisfied that he had done his job, and finally hushed up, but he still chased the armadillo around the lawn.  As soon as the puppy approached the armadillo, it would jump straight up into the air, and run in a different direction, surprisingly agile.  If I’d been watching a video of it, I’m sure I would have laughed at the antics of both creatures.  Since it was two in the morning, I was annoyed, embarrassed and cold, it wasn’t as funny.  It became even less amusing when I saw the holes the armadillo had scratched in the lawn.

 

I’d hoped the armadillo in the lawn would be too scared to return, but it has returned several nights in a row, taunting my puppy.  I’m done with the drama.  Let Allstate Animal Control get rid of the armadillo on the lawn, and let a trainer teach my dog some manners.  Then, maybe, life will be a little more normal.

 

 

Armadillo Removal

how to get rid of armadillos

Running, running, running away from the armadillo removal guys.  My leathery-looking pointed ears picked up the sound of two men stomping around, the metal cage rattling its parts and thumping up against the men’s legs.  They set it down, intent on armadillo removal, but it is not to be.  I may look like a dinosaur descendant.  I may spend my days digging and grubbing around in the dirt intent on finding food.  But, I am not that stupid.  The men set up their cage and toss dirt on the bottom of it to make me think I could dig my way out of it or dig down to find some juicy grubs.  But, I’m up and running.  They’re surprised at how fast I can move.

Rocks, pebbles and sand rush by as my tiny short legs move deceptively fast.  Every now and then, I hide behind a small bush, certain of its ability to hide my presence.  Then, I’m up and off and running again.  Darting this way, jumping straight up in the air, throwing myself that way at high speed.  The armadillo removal guys will never catch me, never.

As I run, my small brain considers why these two men would be after me.  I have done nothing wrong.  I only take care of my needs.  Food, shelter.  That’s it.  Yes, I have to dig, dig, dig for it all. That’s why I’m blessed with these fabulous shovels I call paws.  Sometimes I have to pull back the green grass to get at the yummy bugs just under the surface.  I dig, dig, dig until the bugs go scattering around in the daylight and then I snap them up.  Sometimes, I like to lie down in a cool spot, so I dig, dig, dig until I make a shallow depression just perfect for my armored body.

So, I suppose the reason I’m dealing with the threat of armadillo removal is someone doesn’t like me digging.  I can’t help it.  It’s what I do.  And, now, running is what I do.

I haven’t quite reached safety.  These small bushes don’t hide me for long, and I’m off and scrambling here and there, intent on freedom.  What I would give for soft, cool ground to dig in, lay down in, and feed in!  That armadillo cage won’t trap me!

Night is coming on, and soon they won’t be able to see me.  I’m not even certain they’re trying to chase me.  I stop and listen, and don’t hear their movements anymore.  I turn and look, but see nothing.  Is it possible that I’m safe?

I stop running, and slowly root around for a bit.  There, under those wooden stairs.  It’ll be cool and it’s a perfect place for bugs to feast upon.  My body bumps up against the steps as I amble into the cool safe spot.  Something smells delicious just over there, and I swear I can hear grubs moving around.  I walk over and start digging and “SNAP!”

Armadillo removal guys win this round.

Armadillo Digging

Armadillo eating a worm
Armadillo eating a worm after it has dug a hole in your yard.
(Artwork by Sharon Davis. Contact us for her contact info.)

“Bad dog!  Bad dog!”  She waved my finger in my face, frowning and angry, and I had no way to tell her the holes in the yard were there because an armadillo was digging the past few nights, not me.

My tail drooped.  It’s annoying how my tail tends to do that even when I know I haven’t done anything wrong.  She gets that mad face and talks sternly and my traitor tail just droops like it has a shame of its own.

I tried to tell her with my eyes that the damage done to the yard was done by a nocturnal creature, who only thinks it’s cute and harmless.  My ears perked forward.  “Please, please try to understand me,” my whine said.

She doesn’t own the place, it’s a rental, but she takes care of it well enough since she and I have called it home for the past five years.  We’ve had lots of romps out there when the weather’s good, and I chase down snowballs when it’s cold.  My favorite is when she blows through a small stick and these mysterious shiny, round things float up into the air.  She laughs so hard as I jump and snatch at them, keeping them from flying away.  We have good times here, so it’s my job to make sure she and this place stay nice and safe.

The night before, I’d been on patrol in the yard, making sure everything was as it should be.  Porch chairs safe, check.  Barbeque tucked away, check.  Shrubs in place, check.  My eyes shined bright in the dark and my nose made sure the only smells in the yard were the ones that should be there.  Until something scratched at the back fence.  I was completely alert in milliseconds, snuffling, growling, warning.  But it just came through anyway.

It was an alien.  Long snout, small ears perked up, claws that wouldn’t stop.  I’d heard of this from some of the dogs at the dog park.  It was an armadillo digging in MY yard, and it acted like it completely ignored me.

Perplexed, I backed off a little.  I wanted to watch it for a while, get to know my enemy before I attacked, just to make sure it didn’t have any nasty tricks.  Turns out, that was my undoing, because that armadillo dug as fast as it could into the grass and down into the dirt, grabbing at any bugs it unearthed.  I bounded forward and barked, and it jumped straight up into the air, landed and shuffled quickly off to another part of the yard.  Before I knew it, the armadillo digging had recommenced.  I decided enough was enough.  I was going to chase it out of my yard despite any tricks it might have.  Full-on assault.  I barked, chased, growled, swatted and it finally disappeared back under the fence.

I felt great and successful and proud of the night’s work, until the next morning when she came out.  All she saw was something had dug holes around her yard, and I was the only creature in sight capable of causing such damage.  Before I knew it, I was berated and punished, and she couldn’t understand my efforts at telling her the real story.  She’ll find out, though.  If that armadillo comes back to dig again tonight, I’ll be tied up, incapable of digging holes like that.  Then, she’ll get someone to take care of the armadillo problem and she and I will be back to chasing shiny round floaty balls all over the yard again.