The Armadillo story

footfootfoot · 01-11-2009, 10:02 PM

Semi brief armadillo story
My Family lived in Dallas for a few years when I was a kid and my dad was in the advertising business. During that time he drove around a lot and ran over his share of 'dillos.

Later we all moved north to the suburbs of NYC where I grew up. My dad often talked about Dallas and the unpleasant crunch made when you drove over an armadillo.

Fast forward 40 years and my dad is in his late 70's driving for a car service, getting up every morning at 4 to drive across westchester to the taxi service.

He told me that every morning he'd see an armadillo running across the same street in Pelham, NY. He insisted it wasn't a racoon, he knew from armadillos and this was one. Every morning he and the armadillo would cross paths and my dad would have to swerve or skid to avoid it. It was as though the thing were trying to get run over. This happened every morning for a few months until one morning my dad heard the sound he never wanted to hear again.

Very strange. We figured that the dillo came from a nearby nursery which probably got its plant stock form down south.

01-11-2009, 10:02 PM	#1
footfootfoot To shreds, you say? Join Date: Aug 2004 Location: in the house and on the street-how many, many feet we meet! Posts: 18,449	The Armadillo story Semi brief armadillo story My Family lived in Dallas for a few years when I was a kid and my dad was in the advertising business. During that time he drove around a lot and ran over his share of 'dillos. Later we all moved north to the suburbs of NYC where I grew up. My dad often talked about Dallas and the unpleasant crunch made when you drove over an armadillo. Fast forward 40 years and my dad is in his late 70's driving for a car service, getting up every morning at 4 to drive across westchester to the taxi service. He told me that every morning he'd see an armadillo running across the same street in Pelham, NY. He insisted it wasn't a racoon, he knew from armadillos and this was one. Every morning he and the armadillo would cross paths and my dad would have to swerve or skid to avoid it. It was as though the thing were trying to get run over. This happened every morning for a few months until one morning my dad heard the sound he never wanted to hear again. Very strange. We figured that the dillo came from a nearby nursery which probably got its plant stock form down south. __________________ The internet is a hateful stew of vomit you can never take completely seriously. - Her Fobs

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