As we came in the driveway this evening after a late dinner-and-groceries run, Chris said, “Is that our bunny rabbit?“ (We have had wild rabbit sightings in our backyard for some years, and I saw one a couple of weeks ago.)
I backed up so as to put my headlights on it for a better look, and it wasn’t a rabbit.
The gang at Protein Wisdom has been perennially disappointed about the resident armadillo’s failure to dance on Fridays, and now we know why. If that sucker is in Georgia on Monday, it wasn’t anywhere near Jeff’s place in Colorado last Friday.
I would have netted him tonight but by the time I dug out my old dipnet from our Alaska days, little Che had disappeared into the darkness, bound generally for the Gulf Coast. He may be intent on taking control of Cuba once Fidel finally kicks the rusty old bucket.
