I’m so excited.  We’re getting a bush hog!  We’re getting a bush hog! We’re getting a bush hog!  Some get excited about Louis Vuitton or Hermes clutches.  Prada or Chanel heels aren’t that great, plus they slip in stirrup irons.  But a bush hog……………now that’s a thing of real beauty.  It truly is.

We don’t really have a lawn.  We don’t really have a pasture.  We have a bog with bog reeds and two-story-tall night shade and things that grow rapidly and are probably related to Audrey from Mushnik’s Flower Shop.  We needed something that could chop & mow small sub-tropical trees that show up, fully-grown overnight.  Something that could take on choking, crawling vines bent on overthrowing the free world with deleterious intent.  And something with speed to be able to accelerate away from the newly de-limbed/maimed and angry invasive foliage that holds grudges.  Our Mahindra tractor and our soon-to-be-acquired bush hog will fill that bill very capably.  And the rapid escape capability here is very important.

What is a bush hog you may well ask———?  A heavy-duty mower deck with chains around the base to stop chopped and flying projectiles from escaping.  Ours will be attached to our tractor’s PTO.  What is a PTO———?  It is a Power Take Off.  This is a device that takes power from another source (like the tractor’s engine) and transfers it to an appliance (like the bush hog)……………..and yes, I wikipedia’d that……………..I didn’t have a clue what it stood for before writing this.

Our tractor has a front bucket with an attached hay spear.  It has this spiffy lever that lifts up anything attached to the PTO in the back.  We have a back blade for spreading stuff—–all kinds of stuff (usually involving a potpourri of manures), and soon we will have a mega-mower too………………Take that!……………..hidden moccasins and pygmy rattlesnakes!  Not just a mower.  Run for the hills hiding armadillos.  Something that will even the playing field in the back yard……………which is really a fenced, 2+ acre jungle that could double as a filming set for the “Survivor”.

We have an assortment of armadillos who take up transient-residency back there.  Mr. & Mrs. Dillo are not the cleverest of creatures.  Sometimes after mowing we find the parched and hollowed-armored-shell of a slow Mr. Dillo, something you could wear as a hat (like the southern-version of Grizzly Adams)———(but only after a bit more than a smidge of mediocre Bourbon)………….and NO we did NOT mow down Mr. & Mrs. Dillo, they chose their demise by some other/unknown method (possibly Wolfhound-related)……..I really don’t  know for sure.  Armadillos are curious creatures.  They are actually soft and squishy when you pick them up.  Looking at them with their “armor” covering, you’d think they would be hard and spiky.  But they aren’t.  They are more like the Pillsbury Doughboy.  And they are easy to sneak up on when they are distracted in a rain storm (I don’t think they hear well, because during one rain storm a Mr. Dillo was intently rooting and we came up from behind and touched its tail—–poor/startled Mr. Dillo screamed and jumped vertically into the air before scuttling off.)……………….But don’t judge………………we find entertainment where we can………………..and if sneaking up on a distracted armadillo is our “thing”, then so be it.

Earlier this month, Killian one of our teenage Wolfhounds proudly came prancing into my bedroom with a Mr. Dillo in her mouth.  My older daughter rescued this one and put him in the side woods (you know, the same side woods that has the rotten vegetable and fossilized kidney beans)…………..Hopefully he will keep trucking in the other direction.

That does bring to mind that earlier this year, Killian’s father came trotting into the house with a Mr. Dillo tail hanging out of his mouth that was none too fresh……………….and neither was he.  Apparently he had already cornered the market on “eau d’puke”.  He thought he smelled great……………………..NOT at all.  No.  No.  No.  No.  We located the aged, heady remains and Hefty-bagged them.  And yes, we tip our garbage men heavily at the Holidays.  We have to……………….otherwise they would never come back.  Maybe this would be a good point to list some of the things that have gone out to the curb here in innocent-looking bags……………………………….on second thought, I don’t want a visit from a HAZMAT crew.  I’d probably go out to the curb in a Hefty bag.

Years ago my father said that armadillos and alligators hadn’t changed that much from prehistoric times.  And that was because they were so efficient that they didn’t need to change and evolve……………………………..

I’d like to weigh-in here, obviously there were not Irish Wolfhounds in their habitat prior to the Ice Age……………..we need some quick Darwinistic-morphing here.  Mr. & Mrs. Dillo are not equipped to deal with errant Irish Wolfhounds…………………especially in a rain storm.

Ah, life in a Florida swamp……………..