The “Dillo-Cong” is on the run. I strafed the yard with a mixture of water, dish soap, and Cayenne Pepper. It wasn’t Napalm, but it appears to have worked, and I didn’t torch the whole neighborhood.
In the process, I damn near ruined my respiratory and sensory systems. I can no longer smell or taste food or drink; everything tastes like Cayenne Pepper. My Oatmeal is chemical mush, and to top it all off, my Irish Whiskey has no taste whatsoever. I’ve ruined my body attempting to rid my property of a pestilent placental mammal. For what? To save my lawn and a few landscape plants? Well, hell yes! I worked hard installing that grass and plants, and I will not allow that little digging shit to defoliate my landscape.
If the pepper spray fails, then I will try plan B. It’s widely known in Texas, that Armadilloes enjoy a beer and a toke once in a while. We can thank the cowboy-hippies down in Austin for turning the critter into a lush and a weed addict. I will put a few cold bottles of Lone Star around the yard and once he is inebriated, I will transport him to a new locale. Beats shooting the little beast.
Notes From The Cactus Patch 
Having to give up Jamison’s is a heck of a sacrifice, Phil. Geez, the things we do to save the planet!
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As of this morning, the oatmeal has regained it’s flavor. Hoping that my other senses kick in today. I had no idea how strong a spice could be.
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The tastes and smell are coming back. Next time I will use my 12 gauge.
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You are a funny guy, Phil. I love the visuals. Thank God someone can make me laugh these days. Hope it all works.
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I knew a girl who had a stuffed one on her mantlepiece. Right up your alley Phil.
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I’ve seen a few of those over the years, I couldn’t bring myself to buy one and have it watching me all the time. Kind of like the Twilight Zone. Our drummer in our now disbanded rock band had 8 deer heads hanging on the walls of our rehearsal room and even that creeped me out.
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