The cock crows as the sun begins to rise. This is common knowledge, even to those of us who haven't lived on a farm. I learned of the rooster's habits from Babe the Pig. This is also where I learned that ducks will pose as roosters to avoid becoming dinner. But the plight of Ferdinand the duck is beside the point.
The point is that I didn't have to move to a farm to have an animal AM wake up call. The rooster may wake at the crack of dawn, but my alarm doesn't even wait for the first sign of sun light.
This morning I laid in my bed with the windows wide open. Although the days are plagued by sweltering heat here in Florida, the nights are perfect with a breeze flowing pleasantly through the windows. That is how I prefer to sleep. It makes me feel at one with nature - especially this morning.
At 5:58 AM furious scurrying began. First I thought it might be Pippy. So I glanced over in her direction, but she was asleep on her blanket. So, I lifted the blinds and peered outside.
Sure enough, the bushes were alive. They shock, rattled and rolled. Whatever was in them was quite busy.
For a moment I was a little nervous. What if it was an alligator? And God forbid it be a rat! I'd rather live in ignorant bliss as to the physical particulars of a rat. What I have seen on TV and movies is enough to suffice my curiosity. After a minute or two my neighbor emerged.
An armadillo.
His hard shell and long snout were my first indicators as to his identity. Lets just say that I know my armadillo. Thank you tenth grade biology project. The way this little creature scooted about was a dead give way.
I named him Louie. He was certainly French. I could tell this immediately. I imagine him to be quite the chef. In fact, I believe he was collecting plants for one of his latest creations. My bushes are his farmers market. I might be more annoyed by his early morning browsing but I understand the love of fresh produce to much to deny Louie his thrill of the hunt. Just this morning I took my time in picking out the prettiest radishes and perfectly formed sweet potatoes at my own farmers market. So, who am I to deny this pleasure to my armadillo neighbor?
Eat your heart out, Louise. And do come again. The corn is going to be a beauty this year! You won't want to miss it.
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