Do All Armadillos Go to Heaven?

This past Friday, before leaving for Branson I got to spend some time with Cale and one of my sweet nieces, Abree. As we were eating lunch we glanced out the window to see, much to our surprise, an armadillo digging holes in the yard. This was not exactly the animal I wanted to watch while trying to enjoy lunch, but it was actually a little interesting to see. I usually only see dead armadillos (that's the way I like them) as I drive down the road. I try not to look, but somehow it seems I always do. Abree was very enamored by the armor-clad, giant rat-looking creature. She stood at the window curiously watching as the armadillo dug hole after hole in the yard. I realized at that moment, this must be the creature that has been causing my dad such havoc and frustration with his yard.

When dad and Carl came in for lunch, the armadillo was still around. Mistake # 1: We showed dad the armadillo. Mistake # 2: We showed Carl the armadillo. Mistake # 3: Carl hasn't shot a gun in years and has been wanting to.

So, the men told me what must be done and I stood there wondering how I would break the news to Abree. Apparently it's not often you catch an armadillo in your yard during the daytime, so they couldn't pass up the chance. As any child would be, Abree was very sad and didn't understand the reasoning behind the murder. She kept trying to watch out the window and I kept trying to keep her away. At one point, while trying to watch both kids, Abree broke free and ran to the window. Luckily, I caught her moments before the actual gunshot. As we were walking away from the window, we heard the shot, and of course, I glanced over to see an armadillo flopping around like crazy on the snow. I scooped Abree up and took her in another room trying to avoid any more trauma. She cried sweet little tears for that nasty creature. Of course, there was still snow on the ground, so what should've been an unmessy death, appeared to be a gruesome bloody scene. There was no hiding it from Abree. So, all I could do was explain to her, with a straight face, that the armadillo, of course, went to Heaven. I couldn't help thinking in my mind that I wasn't so sure that armadillos would be one of the animals in Heaven. At least I hoped not anyways. But, instead of simply accepting the Armadillo-Heaven theory, Abree asked me how it got there, and why, and lot's of other questions that I wasn't quite prepared for. (My little guy is only one so I have awhile before the hard questions) All in all, it was a traumatic day for tender-hearted Abree. Even though Pops and Carl felt bad, I think I sensed a hint of pride radiating from them because of their big kill (neither one of them are hunters). Later that evening in Branson, Abree asked her dad if he knew how to kill an armadillo. When he said no, she replied, "I can show you."