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Armadillos

Get Rid of Armadillo

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get rid of armadillos
“Nooooo, Daddy, please don’t get rid of the armadillo!  Noooo!  It’s so cute.  I want to keep him.  I want him for my pet.  Please, Daddy, pleeeease?!”

            Dad groaned, and I could tell he wasn’t convinced yet that it was a great idea to keep the armadillo, much less keep it as a pet.  My baby sister, Emily, is usually very convincing when she wants something, and because she’s the baby in the family, Dad usually gives in.  Mom doesn’t, but Dad will, and we had a better chance with Mom if we could just get Dad on our side.

            But, it would take some major pleading to keep Dad from getting rid of the armadillo.  Over the last few weeks, he’d been angrier and angrier about our yard.  He thought it was a dog at first, because big chunks of grass and dirt were dug up and thrown around. He almost confronted our neighbor, even, who had a big Doberman.  Good thing he didn’t, because one day we noticed some of our trees were getting torn up, bark pulled off around the bottom.  Oh, man, was Dad mad then!  No dog does that, and after a lot of online research, Dad finally figured out it was probably an armadillo. 

            The way Dad ranted and raved, we all figured it would turn out to be some kind of monstrous wild creature, but when I saw it snuffling around in our grass, it was so cute!  It had this long nose and these adorable ears.  I stayed away from it, because I could also see the claws looked pretty sharp, but it was so sweet I had to get Emily outside to see it.

            Emily squealed when she saw it.  “Shhhh!”  I hushed her.  “If Dad sees it, he’ll just want to get rid of the armadillo.  We have to make him want to keep it for a pet.  You’re going to have to cry.”

            “Oh, man!  You always make me cry to Daddy when you want something,”  Emily complained.

            “Hey, you want this, too, don’t you?”

            “Yeah, I guess.”  She looked at the armadillo across the yard again.  “Yeah, I really do.”

            The whole time we talked, we watched the armadillo digging around a sprinkler head.  It didn’t look like the pipe was going to survive the digging.  Emily would have to do some serious begging!

            So, here we were, in the backyard, Emily crying and pleading, the armadillo scrabbling away in the big plastic box Dad put it in, Dad scowling at the damage in the yard, and me just keeping my mouth shut.

            I have to admit, I wasn’t all that surprised when Dad finally said, “I’m sorry, Em, but we’ve just got to get rid of the armadillo.”

            I was surprised, though, when he added, “But, I think it may be time to get a dog.  A really big dog.”  Yippeee!!!

Porcupines

Get Rid of Porcupines

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get rid of porcupines
As winter approaches, I shudder and wonder if there is any way I can get rid of porcupines.  It seems hopeless for me.  I’ve watched them throughout the spring and summer, the large ugly rodents rooting around, eating whatever they can find.  They’ve eaten away most of the vegetation now, and there aren’t many choices left now that winter is coming. 

            Night is beginning to fall, stars are just starting to peep out, and life is quiet here.  The breeze washes over me.  It’s colder now and I shudder slightly.  I try to enjoy the solitude, the peace, the changing of the seasons.  I remember the summer:  children playing, picnics, tire swings, birds nesting, the warm sun and delicious rain.  But I can’t stop thinking about those monsters roaming around, free as they please, hungry, always hungry, gnawing, ever chewing.  They are a danger to dogs, cats, over-curious children, but so often they forget how dangerous they are to me.  Again, I try to forget about my fears and remember the beautiful times.

            I began to relax ever so slightly, when my nightmare with beady black eyes appears before me.  The breeze plays along its quills and it lifts its nose, snuffling a little in the evening air.  My mind races and I can’t move.  How can I possibly get rid of this porcupine?  In my terror, I cannot think, and I am helpless, frozen and rooted to the spot as it shuffles toward me.  It touches me, and I almost lose all consciousness.  But, I am just not that lucky.

            It circles me and then faces me, baring its teeth.  Each long tooth gleams in the first rays of moonlight.  Those awful teeth never stop growing, making the creature desperate to gnaw on my flesh.  I am horrified as it leans towards me and slides its teeth into my skin.  It chews and tears and rips it away, piece by piece.  I am powerless, and each minute is an eternity of terror.

            Strong claws grip into me, and it climbs even higher up onto me.  It reaches a tender limb and slices it cleanly off.  I desperately try not to think of slow death as disease enters into the stump of a limb.  Strip by strip, limb by limb, the porcupine chews, gnaws and slices pieces off of me.  Minutes are hours in my pain, but finally it climbs down off of me and waddles away in search of food.  It is satisfied and hungry.  I quake with what is left of me.  I have a long winter ahead of me, and I can only pray that some human will get rid of the porcupines and let me rest in peace.

Voles

Vole Removal

vole removal
There I was, enjoying a sweet stalk of juicy cattail, when I heard the loudest rumble and crash, and this vole removed itself from the comfortable little den I’d made.  Popping my tiny head outside, I saw a huge scary thing eating up the ground in front of me.  I’d heard of this happening to other voles – it seems the humans enjoy digging deep into the ground to build their dens.  I’d never experienced it myself until now!

            Leaving everything behind me, I ran as fast as my little legs could carry me across the meadow where I’d burrowed my whole life.  I scurried around giant piles of stuff that man had scattered around, my heart beating so fast I thought I’d drop dead mid-flight.  I stopped to catch my breath and squeaked in fright as I noticed the hawk circling overhead.  I had to find shelter and I had to find it fast.  But, first, I had to wait until that hawk found somewhere else to hover.

            As soon as it veered away, I was off, streaking across the ground.  Where could I find soft, malleable ground, with lots of green things to eat and plenty of water?  When would I reach a safe place where I could tunnel around, chew on sweet tender roots, and burrow safely underground?  Why would those people want me, a beautiful vole removed?

            A large wooden something stood in my way, stretching along the meadow for as far as I could see.  Nothing for it, must burrow underneath and hope I could pop out somewhere on the other side.  Digging quickly, dirt flying, I soon made a hole just big enough for me.  Paws scrabbling, it wasn’t long before I came out the other side, and found . . . paradise.

            A quiet, huge expanse of green grass.  It was slightly damp under my sensitive paws, an excellent sign that there was plenty of water.  I stopped and looked around, ready for any danger.  Nothing, just unadulterated greenness.  Low lying plants gave me plenty of cover.  Joyously, I dug and dug, making new tunnels wherever I felt like it.  I found the roots of a young tree.  Nibble, nibble!  Flower bulbs.  Munch, munch!  Beautiful bark from the base of an older tree that I could rip off into little pieces.  One new tunnel led me directly to tender juicy carrots and roots of all kinds of new vegetables I’d never experienced before.  What more could a vole ask for?

            No humans around, except someone peeping out of a window.  They think I’m cute!  No vole removal going on here, obviously.  Here, take my picture!  I’ll nibble on this plant with my tiny little paws, whiskers twitching.  Aren’t I just adorable?

Gophers

Gopher Removal

 

gopher removal
            Labor Day is the perfect day for hanging out at the park, enjoying the sunshine, letting the kids play, barbequing, flying kites, and thinking about gopher removal.  Well, you’d hope it wasn’t that last one, but a group of picnickers were surprised to see a gopher pop up, bold as you please, out of a hole in the middle of a large crowd. 

            After the initial shock, it became the center of attention and the topic of all conversations.  Its little head poking around at the top of its hole, sniffing, looking around, and generally being adorable.

            It explained some of the other holes all around the area.  Some of the kids had tripped and fallen as they played, their little feet tripping over the gopher holes.  A few women oohed and aahed over the cute little rodent, which had already disappeared into its hole and then popped back out again, with a scoop of dirt between its paws.  Admittedly, it was cute, if you like that sort of thing.  Light brown with little black eyes and tiny little paws.  It had no fear at all of the people standing and playing around its holes.  It knew it could just dive back down out of reach at the first sign of trouble. 

            But, some of the more observant members of the crowd looked around at the park and spotted the damage.  Some of the trees were dying.  Bark was stripped off the bottom of the trunks and they looked like they dying of thirst, their roots having been eaten by the gopher.  One tree was leaning over dangerously, it was probably undermined enough to topple one of these days.  The grassy park was littered with splotches of dirt, splayed out and around the holes. 

            But, for now, it was Labor Day, and no one was probably working at the city offices to take the call, requesting gopher removal from the park.  Never mind that gophers usually attract larger predators that might lurk around after dark, hoping to catch a tasty treat.  Weasels, skunks, bobcats, snakes would all love a gopher meal.  Never mind that gophers can carry lice, fleas, ticks or mites, or even carry diseases such as monkey pox or rabies. 

            No, for the moment, it is considered a cute distraction, an extra attraction to the festivities at the park on Labor Day.  Children continue to play, sometimes peering down a newly discovered hole in the hopes of seeing another one.  Parents continue to drink their drinks and talk and maybe take a picture or two of the wild creature joining in on the party.  They can think about gopher removal another day, right?