Armando

       Bruce and I live out in the country, on Canaan Way, in Callahan, Florida, to be exact. Country life is a good thing for us. It's quiet here in Callahan, with the exception of some crowing roosters, and the trains that run behind our house several times a day. The two-acre lot is dotted with trees that Bruce planted himself. We have a small garden, and expansive yard, which Bruce mows every week or so. These days, however, the lawn mower is silent, since an armadillo named Armando has moved onto the property. For Armando, the yard and somewhat manicured grass have become his grand buffet, and in the wee hours of the night, Armando is on a feeding frenzy.
       Armadillos eat grubs, worms and ants, but also enjoy fruit and lettuce, if provided. Armando has become accustomed to tearing up large sections of the yard each night, before delving into the compost pile for leftover apple cores, which I suppose, to Armando, are his dessert. When Armando first came onto the property, Bruce tried to lure him into a trap with bait, but Armando would have none of that. Born with terrible eyesight, armadillos dig and eat using their sense of smell. And with our rich soil that is loaded with fat worms, our Armando is not easily enticed by much of anything else.
       Bruce is of Irish and Welsh descent, and his people pride themselves on green grass and meticulously trimmed lawns. When Bruce walks outside each morning to see the extensive damage that Armando has done to his lawn the previous evening, he is grateful that his ancestors are not alive to witness such a sacrilege. It is difficult to walk across the yard, lest you twist your ankle in one of the hundreds of holes that Armando has dug. There is less and less need to mow the grass, since it has dwindled away. And if you were to come visit our home, you would think that we were working on some sort of construction project out back. Perhaps preparing the ground for a one-acre patio or something. That's how bad it's getting.
       But Bruce and I are live-and-let-live people. We want Armando to go away, but we don't want to harm him. We have realized that Armando is very elusive and impossible to trap. Bruce has only seen him a couple of times, because Armando is never around when we're in the yard at night. Even when we sneak out under the moonlight to see if we can spot him, Armando manages to slip away.
       Bruce says that Armando is big. So big that you could ride him. He is the master of trickery, and he just might be the king of armadillos everywhere.