What were
you doing at 5:00 a.m. this morning? Snoozing happily I hope. I, on the other
hand, was experiencing an adventure and, no, it wasn’t in a dream. With our
first cool days and nights of the coming fall, I have opened the windows to air
out the house. This means I enjoy the all the sounds of nocturnal nature. . .
.and so do my dogs.
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Holly Berry |
|
Harriet Beecher |
This morning around 5:00 a.m. (I refer to this time as Cecil time – which will be explained, I’m sure, in a later blog), not a creature was stirring – not even a mouse. Then out on the lawn there arose such a clatter that I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter. Away to the door I flew like a flash, turned on the light and then started to dash. When, what to my sleepy eyes should appear, but my two dogs and one armadillo.
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Nine-banded Armadillo (Dasypus novemcinctus) |
The
nine-banded armadillo did not see the dogs until they were nose to nose. It
jumped straight up in the air and ran off directly into my pond. Oh,
good, I thought – now I must rescue a drowning armadillo. But, fortunately, it
clawed its way out and scampered down the hill to parts unknown. By this time
the dogs were bored and wanted to go back to sleep.
The state
mammal of Texas, the nine-banded armadillo, is a cat-sized, armor-clad,
insect-eating rototiller. Grub worms are its food of choice but it will occasionally
eat berries and other small invertebrates. Breeding occurs in
July but the embryo remains dormant until November. Four young are born in
March in a burrow. All four are the same sex and are identical quadruplets
formed from a single egg. The armadillo was originally native to South America
but now can be found as far north as Texas, Oklahoma, Kansas and Louisiana.
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Most people only see this kind of armadillo |
In an effort to keep my gardens from being tilled under by Mr. Dillo, I have resorted to using the humane-trap and release method. These are my results.