But then we started noticing more. And a few more. As the summer wore on, our noses, not our eyes, were what alerted us to additional armadillo bodies. Either that, or we'd just follow the circling vultures to their picnic of bloated and rotting armadillo flesh.
After doing some Hillbilly CSI on a recently departed (and not yet smelling so bad as to make one want to immediately wretch into one's overalls) armadillo carcass, I noticed that there were puncture wounds on either side of it's midsection. It would have to be a pretty big mouth to get around that body. And none of the carcasses were eaten (other than by the vultures and that was after the fact); they were just killed and left to rot. It also seems that the perpertrator isn't killing because it's hungry (because he gets dog food with eggs & milk & meat on top). It appears we have a Thrill Killer on our hands. But without photographic evidence of the crime in process, I cannot positively identify the perpertrator, but I have a pretty good idea who it may be......
|Don't let that sweet, sad, floppy face fool you. If you're|
an armadillo, you'd better run.
But it seems that they have not yet adapted to this particular ecosystem and the Giant Sloppy Dog that resides in it may make this particular group of armadillos extinct. Maybe I can get to the carcassas early enough that I can start making these things:
Wonder how they would go over as Christmas presents this year? I bet my Mom would put it on her nightstand.