My Big Strong Hero Tango Delta Niner

Maybe whining isn't a bad thing after all.

The weather last year was harsh in Southwest Florida.  Almost no rain, dried up lakes, water use restrictions all added up to brown yards and golf courses.  My own yard was no exception.  I had brown spots and a couple of areas that just died.  I didn't complain to the management company.  You know, nobody likes whiners.  Well, I don't like whiners so I didn't whine.  I just figured my yard was a calamity of the rain and it would work it's way back green.

This time it probably would have been in my best interest to whine a little.  If you've been hanging around this salty old blog long enough you've read more than one post about my "relocation program" for possums and armadillos.  I have to be the only real estate agent that will say this:  Since I havahart....yuk yuk...I decided to traps the critters and relocate them myself.  Why would I do that, you ask?  Because the home owner association would call professionals *murderers* that feed them magic food that makes them very thirsty.  They'll go to the lake to get a drink and the water will kill them, hopefully before they get back under my house.

I don't like the little trolls, but I know they shouldn't die just because they're not smart enough to leave.  I sent them an invitation on embossed stationary.  They didn't even RSVP that they wouldn't leave.

So here's the kicker. I have these little beasts because the grass wasn't dying from being dry it is dying from pests, grubs, bugs, their absolute favorite meal.  The lawn guy, bless his heart, was a sweety but he didn't know grass from grass.  I'm in the throws of having my entire yard re-sodded because it was beyond all hope.  I should have whined to the association manager.

In the last three weeks we've relocated three armadillos and two possums.  The possums go to some land a friend of mine owns on Morton Road and the armadillos go out by Smith road in the boondocks of East Bonita Springs.  (Yes, out by Village Walk of Bonita Springs, Sharon. Put on some tea they're on the way.)  It's a dirt road, lily pads on water, bullet holes in real estate signs kind of place.  So today I caught a Mack Daddy armadillo and then I called Tango Delta Niner my transportation for armadillos.  They stink and they're not riding in my car.  Who would want to go shopping for their real estate in an armadillow stinkmobile?

Well we've had rain in Bonita Springs lately.  Lots of it.  Since the ‘dillos go out by Smith I try to turn them loose in the same place so they might find each other.  Tango Delta Niner didn't think this was funny at all.

See that dark section in the middle?  That means it's deep.  See those sand bags on the right?  That means that this situation is out of control.  Come on Tango, don't be a sissy.  I should point out that there is a sunken boat up there on the left.

More sand bags and a dark puddles.  Tango is not amused and says with friends like you who needs enemies.

Armadillos are so much more attractive on this side of Bonita Springs.  There's something about it that brings out the color of their shell. You can't bottle magic like that.

No matter what side of Bonita Springs they're calling home they still have funny little chicken claw looking feet.  See them?  Fingernails just like a chicken.  Gross.  This one's on the road, like a toad, too.  Three amadillos down, at least one more to go....that I know about.

Tango Delta Niner says to me right before we left.  Lumberjack is right your choice of foot ware in the great outdoors is frowned upon.  To that I replied, "But honey, I make armadillo trapping look good!"