Javelina are disgusting animals. And they'll kill ya for a nickel.
So there we have two good reasons for detesting the coarse-haired rodents. Yes? Yes.
Javelina are not smart animals. They smell awful. They scare easily. They have terrible eyesight. They eat poopy diapers for dessert and cacti as an entree. And they'll kill ya for a nickel.
Tonight my daughters and I got in my car to take a little tween friend home at 10pm.
(I don't like sleepovers so we do 'late nights'. Sleepovers mean there is no sleeping to be had. And also it means my children desire to sleep at the homes of their friends which means I have no idea what is happening to my precious angels in the middle of the night. No thanks. Too many Chester Molestors out here. They can tattle to their therapists when they grow up. )
So, I'm backing out of my garage and I run something over. It's a bumpy, squishy something.
And suddenly there arose such a clatter
that I checked my rear view to see what was the matter...
"What in the world?" I say.
"There is trash all over the driveway!" shout the girls. "The big green trash can is in the middle of the street... How...???"
I am preparing to get out of my car when I spy an enormous daddy javelina glaring at me with his beady, unintelligent eyes.
"I feel you are a threat to my tribe so I will charge ya and kill ya for a nickel and tear you to shreds if you get out of your car. Then I'll eat a poopy diaper for dessert," he snorted.
"EWWWW!!! I HATE JAVELINA! THEY ARE SOOOO GROSS! And they'll kill ya for a nickel," I said with enthusiasm, vigor and a pinch of malice.
"There are, like, 12 of them!" hollered the girls in unison. "We have never seen so many all in one place in our live long lives!"
"NASTY! NASTY! NASTY!" I said with great depth of disgust. "Now your dad has to come out here and clean all this trash in the middle of the night!"
"I'm scared," said Serena.
"Don't be silly. It's not like they can open the car door and scrape your face off," I said because I am always understanding and sensitive to the tender feelings of my offspring.
By this time I have backed out of my driveway completely. We are surveying the extent of the damage and marveling over the vast number of hairy pigs running mad in the light of my high beams.
But, LO! What is THIS?
What to my wondering eye should appear? ...But a mama javelina and her four tiny reindeer...
"Oh my gosh! Oh my goodness!" I cry with the blink of my eye. "Look at that mama and her teeny tiny babies! Oh! They are so cute! I can't believe how cute they are!"
Mama began to run from me with her four tiny ones in tow. I followed her slowly so as to get a better look at the babies.
I changed my tune. I changed my song. And you'll change yours before too long...
"RUN, MAMA! RUN WITH YOUR BABIES! RUN AWAY INTO THE DESERT AND PROTECT THEM FROM HARM! RUN!! RUN, MAMA, RUN! MERRY CHRISTMAS MAMA JAVELINA. I'M HAPPY YOU HAD A YUMMY MEAL FROM MY TRASH CAN FOR YOUR BABIES! NOW YOU CAN SLEEP SOUNDLY WITH FULL TUMMIES! MERRY CHIRSTMAS!"
I actually shouted all those things aloud. My girls and their friend didn't even call me crazy and tell me to quit being weird because they too were touched.
I took the friend home. By the time I had returned there was not a javelina in sight.
I emerged from my vehicle with a light heart. I had done a good deed with my garbage can. For one man's trash is another pig's late night snack.
I got to work collecting bits and pieces of trash the animals had strewn all over the street. My Bella helped me. Serena remained afeared that a monstrous javelina would run out from the bushes and scrape her face off so she hurried inside. Where does she get these silly notions, I wonder?
Merry Christmas, Mama Javelina and baby javelina!
Merry Christmas, Mister Pistol! ('Cause I cleaned all that smelly, wet, gooey, nasty trash with my bare hands while you were inside watching TV! And cleaning trash in the middle of the night is a man's job but I love you and was trying to serve you in an anonymous fashion...)
Merry Christmas to all and to all a goodnight!
