Jason Deal

Perhaps it’s not a good idea to go armadillo hunting.

Did so last week and it caused me some trouble, including a flat tire and a broken tooth. Throw in the fact that the Bears, Pirates and Dawgs all lost and I drew the conclusion this bad run of misfortune all began Thursday night.

The pink, armor-plated rascal was at the back of Mama and Daddy’s carport when I got home from work last Thursday night. It seems it is always dark when I get home from work these days.

I have no particular animosity toward the armadillos, but we have always had a family of the pesky critters in our neighborhood. They dig up our yard in the dark of night. I suspect to see one of them out there driving the John Deere® with the harrows hooked up behind him. The furrows are that deep.

Stepped in one walking up the path to Mama’s and Daddy’s the other evening and I almost ended up in China.

In fact, it was a prelude to falling down in the highway culvert in Patterson last weekend — though perhaps not as graceful.

I summoned Daddy out with the gun and he dispatched the armadillo, though not without some drama.

The fellow jumped up and down a dozen times before he finally yielded up the ghost.

I had backed my trusty Chevy Equinox up by the marigold planter at the old well so Daddy could see his shot.

Bad mistake.

Almost immediately, my tire pressure warning light came on followed by a succession of dings from my OnStar® system’s messaging center. All reported I was rapidly losing tire pressure.

Rapidly is probably an understatement. Said tire pressure went from 34 psi to 11 and then all the way down to 2 in a matter of about five minutes.

The tire was flat, as in flat as a flitter.

It was the curse of the armadillo, I’m telling you.

Then, we know what happened to the Bears, Pirates and Bulldogs. I was tempted to go hide in one of those armadillo holes or fall in the culvert again just to keep from watching what happened.

The strange occurrences were not over, however.

Oh, no. When I have things like this happen, I go all out you see.

Snacking on Chex Mix® Saturday, I noticed the bag had rocks in it. Or, so I thought. Actually, one of my 30-year-old dental fillings came apart.

I’m not kidding.

So, the next time I get the idea to go armadillo hunting, I think I’ll just buy the guy a box of earthworms, wish him well and call it a night.

• Jason Deal is the news editor for The Blackshear Times. Reach him at jdeal@blacksheartimes.news.