You Never Know What Lurks Underwater

We visited my hometown over the weekend.

This is momentous for two reasons.

It’s the first time I’ve been back there since Mama’s funeral in 2013.

And, it’s the first time we’ve stayed in a motel room since the lockdown began last March.

I grew up in Ardmore, Tenn., a small town straddling the Tennessee-Alabama state line in Giles County. It’s just off Interstate 65. US Hwy. 31 runs right down the middle of town.

It was a bustling place Saturday afternoon. And from what I could tell, it seems to have improved over the years. I saw lots of interesting shops. The school has grown.

There was even a stretch along one street with ornamental street lights and park benches along the sidewalk.

All this helped me take my mind off of what I saw on the way over there.

Armadillos. Dozens of them dead on the side of the road.

We started seeing them not long after we finished our descent of Monteagle mountain.

I first heard about armadillos encroaching toward that area several years ago when Kim took her mother to Florence, Ala., to visit a friend. She came back talking about seeing them along the way.

At the time, I found this quite amusing.

I grew up a handful of miles from there. I should know armadillos don’t live anywhere close.

As usual, the joke was on me. And I’ve never lived it down.

In my defense, I had been away for a little while.

Thinking about the locations of the fine newspapers that run this column, probably about one-third of you are already having to deal with these horrid creatures.

I feel for you.

One website dedicated to armadillos says they will generally run away if frightened but can hurt someone with their strong claws if handled incorrectly.

No worries here.

People eat them in Southern and Central America, apparently. I’ve always heard them called “possum on the half shell,” which is an insult to oysters.

The meat supposedly tastes somewhat like pork, which, likewise, is an insult to pigs.

Coming in contact with them can also lead to an extremely high infection rate of a virus that can cause leprosy, making them biblically gross. They could’ve been a plague.

Lice, gnats, boils, armadillos. They fit right in.

Oh, did I mention they can swim? And, if the distance is short, they just hold their breath and walk on the floor underwater.

Can you imagine hooking one thinking you had a fish?

I’m glad my wading in the creek days are over. They would be over now, for sure.

So let’s recap.

We’ve got strong claws, leprosy, and the dang things can walk underwater.

Most researchers agree it’s only a matter of time until armadillos migrate into the eastern time zone.

I don’t know if I can take it.

I happened upon a snake the other day, which turned me into a 9-year-old girl for about 5 minutes just like it always does.

But the first time I see an armadillo in the backyard, I truly believe I’ll throw up a for sale sign in the yard and move to Vermont.

The winters would be brutal, but I would be back down to the traditional plagues.