My Claim to Fame

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Humor  |  House: Booksie Classic
You wanna hear my claim to fame? Really! Here, I'll tell you! (*Hint* It involves an armadillo!)

Submitted: November 16, 2015

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Submitted: November 16, 2015

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My Claim to Fame!

My claim to fame? Questionable. Truly. You want to hear it? Sure. I warned you. I have a dog, her name is Greta. She really loves chasing squirrels. Like, really. Like saw a squirrel out the back of the car and and repeatedly threw herself against the car window kind of love. So, naturally (because I do happen the love, need, and want to keep my arm in its socket) we try to walk where there aren’t as many squirrels. You wouldn't think it would be that hard, right? Wrong.

So one day, we’re walking on a small island in the Arkansas River that is open to tourists and walkers. Because it is an island, there aren’t as many squirrels. Turns out though, there are some other things. Deer carcasses. And armadillos. We’ll get to that. We cross the bridge and turn left, that's the long trail that Greta loves. It curves along the island and turns around the end, so you see people going both ways.

As we’re walking, enjoying the forest-y smells we hear something. Correction. Greta hears something, and my arm almost detaches itself from my body because she wants to know what it is. She pulls me, (my feet are making marks in the ground) across a small picnic area (“sorry picnickers”) past a small gazebo, and towards a small cluster of trees. Now, I’m hearing this strange scraping sound too.

As we (Greta) approach, I start to see what it is. And when I realize it I’m like; “Dang! There are armadillos in Arkansas!” It is in fact an armadillo, busily digging away at the ground. I yank Greta hard, telling her “No, Greta. We happen to like armadillos, and that one seems to have very long, sharp claws.”This only makes her want to pick it up and shake it more.

By this time the armadillo has noticed the panting, barking hundred pound, barely restrained dog, madly attempting to get to him, and the human desperately trying to keep her arm on, and her dog safe from long armadillo claws at the same time. (and quite effectively, thank you). It seems to get the hint when Greta makes a strangled barking sound and her slightly purple tongue lolls out.

It runs faster than I would have imagined an armadillo could have run, and we continued on. Greta, to my eternal annoyance was still on an adrenalin high for the rest of the walk, and everything was exiting (including the deer carcass, the horses, and the bunny we saw) to her. We never saw an armadillo again, but I have noticed that Greta insists on checking the armadillo hole every time we walk there.

 


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