GAVEL GAMUT
By Jim Redwine
www.jamesmredwine.com
(Week of 24 February 2025)
MAN’S ALMOST BEST FRIEND
You may already know that Peg and I live in an isolated cabin where our human
neighbors are not close, but often other species are. We enjoy the normal reverie of our own thoughts but occasionally have our space invaded by two and four-footed, uninvited interlopers.
We have had to deal with raccoons, opossums, field mice, voles, skunks, ocelots, possibly a rare mountain lion or two, crows, hawks, eagles, assorted squirrels, woodpeckers and songbirds and flocks of quail, among several others, including armadillos and curious coyotes.
During the recent snowstorms and related inclement weather, the armadillos were
ascendant with holes appearing almost everywhere. Now, some folks may find all wildlife
entertaining and equivalent but Peg and I carry no brief for armadillos who look like armored pigs and lack any furry cuddlesomeness. We do have a friend who hails from Central America where, I assume, armadillos migrated from. Recently he chided me for depopulating the armadillos who tried to take over our yard. Our friend told me armadillo meat tastes like “the sweetest of pork”; I assured him we would not find a way to make the comparison.
What we have noticed however is that several non-human carnivores also enjoy an
occasional repast of armadillos. Chief among those ravenous raptors are the vultures but they are in hot competition for “sweet pork” left-overs with our habitation of coyotes. Our experience has been that coyotes are not so adept at catching armadillos but they are quite efficient at eating the innards and interiors of the housing of the already dead armadillo.
We have also noted that we have a bevy of coyotes that regularly patrol our small ranch
for any hapless armadillo that should find itself dispatched by some other non-coyote cause; my 20 gauge for example. The most recent evidence of a symbiotic relationship between our rather almost dog-like coyote population and ourselves occurred during the recent ill weather.
I looked out a cabin window and saw a fat armadillo gamboling in our front yard with its
pterodactyl sized front claws. I grabbed my shotgun, checked it was loaded, clicked off thesafety, eased out the back door and quietly moved to within lethal range. Voila! One more mess of sweet pork made available.
As it was almost dark, I decided to leave the carcass till the next day. Well, the next day
the prize was gone. I rejoiced in the provenance of Mother Nature and gave the matter no more thought until two days later when Peg found a hollowed-out suit of meatless armadillo armor right outside our front door; there was no note. There was a rather neat display that to us was just like the remains of a Thanksgiving Day turkey as left by in-laws along with a bare pumpkin pie plate.
Okay, I get that some would think this a mere happenstance. But those people are not the
nature lover I am. I am convinced our quasi-canine coyotes were leaving us a two-fold message:
1. Thank you; and
2. Keep ’em coming!
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