HANK WILDING'S JOURNAL — Dateline July 16, 2021, McDonough, GA: On a midday stroll along Little Cotton Indian Creek, I chanced upon this quartet of juvenile Nine-banded Armadillos foraging like there was no tomorrow.
Here in Georgia, I’m accustomed to the gruesome sight of armadillo carcasses decomposing on roadsides; poor devils, they look like upended miniature tanks — Casualties of War against humankind’s vastly superior armaments. But the sight of a LIVE armadillo in the wild is still a fairly rare treat.
I was thrilled to get about five minutes of this energetic quartet as they foraged for grubs and such in the leaf litter, and even inside a fallen log. They didn’t seem to be aware of my presence at all … then suddenly they took off at lightning speed, each in a different direction.
I managed to film one skedaddling into a handy burrow entrance/exit, one of many along the creek bank. When it thought the coast was clear, it ventured outside the hole and reared up on its hind legs, sniffing, and finally sensed me (or smelled my BO) and scooted back inside. (The girlish yelp is a sound effect I added. I read that armadillos make various grunting sounds. Alas, I was not privy to these.)
Female nine-banded armadillos typically have one litter a year consisting of four identical quadruplets. Since this was a group of four pups, I have to assume they were brothers and sisters. Aww, how sweet.
Somehow, bluegrass just seemed like the perfect background music for this video. “Salt Creek” is played with skill and vigor by Nat Keefe & Hot Buttered Rum. (George Strait’s “Armadillo By Morning” would have been a good choice, too. Get it? Of course you do.)
If armadillos fascinate you, dear viewer, as much as they do me, you might find this Center for Urban Agriculture article enlightening:
[ Ссылка ]
Ole Hank thanks ye for watching. Now, get out of that chair, ye lazy so-and-so, and GO WILDING!
