….I deliver.
This is my meager store of armadillo lore.
Armadillo is a Spanish word meaning “little armored one.” Its fancy name is “Dasypodidae” and it’s part of the “Cingulata” order. I added that last part for the benefit of Kathy S. The Brides will understand.
I read a novel one time in which a little boy called everything a “rattlesnake,” including an armadillo who peed down his daddy’s neck while in the little boy’s grip. Then the little boy stumbled over a real rattlesnake. The child lived. No memory of what happened to the armadillo.
I once dated a man who gave me the phrase, “There’s no such thing as a live armadillo in Alabama.” That’s because the only way we ever knew there were any in the state was when we saw them four-up next to our roads.
Lynne’s husband’s aunt once painted a pair of ceramic two-stepping armadillos. They were…interesting.
There’s the red velvet cake in the shape of an armadillo in the movie Steel Magnolias. Lindsey baked some cupcakes last week that had the same effect on the inside. On the outside, they looked like this. I wish I had one now.
When I got to Texas, I learned that it’s against state law to keep a live armadillo in captivity. I have never broken this law.
Then there’s the Giant Armadillo Who Watches Over Kirby Drive. My first experience with this guy was when I went to Goode’s Armadillo Palace back in 2007 to hear presidential candidate John Edwards speak. We all know how that turned out, though as far as I know, Giant Armadillo wasn’t involved in any baby-daddy scandals. It took me a while to find information about GA, but then I read this article. Apparently Jim Goode and his son Levi bought the concrete-and-mortar armadillo from its former owner, a Wyoming restaurateur, and after obtaining wide-load permits, had it transported to Texas.
The armadillo is fourteen feet tall and twenty-two feet wide.
It’s not a tall tale that everything’s bigger in Texas; it’s a long tail.
Not just any armadillo, of course, but a longhorn armadillo.
When they say the eyes of Texas are upon you, sometimes they mean red glowy eyes.
Oh, there’s also a Giant Seal!
Kidding.
My Mom chased an armadillo once when she was working in Texas.
Did she chase it for any particular reason?
I didn’t know armadillos had horns! Every time I think of armadillos and Texas I think of Kinky Friedman. What ever happened to Kinky Friedman?
Only this one has horns.
Kinky’s still around. Still writing books and magazine articles. He says he’s not running for governor again. But he’s still involved with his music career, too.
That certainly is a big armadillo, and with horns I would hate to have to try to shoo him out of my garden. Is that glass attached to the “shell”?
The mirrors? Yes.
I think this armadillo would crush your poor Gallopalooza horses, don’t you?
a cautionary tale on the perils of dissin’ armadillos:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FeZIHNo7Bvc&playnext=1&list=PLA355274FA21924CB
That IS wisdom to remember. I hope somewhere out there is similar wisdom about turtles. I used to hear tales of a man who put turtle shells over a small board filled with nails next to country roads. If someone swerved to hit the turtle, they’d end up with flat tires. This could be rural legend; still, hubris regarding Mother Nature’s little darlings is rarely a good idea.