I never really got the joke, “Why did the chicken cross the road? To show the armadillo it could be done!” I never got it, that is, until I went on a road trip with my bunco friends to Branson, MO.
Somewhere south of St. Louis, a little past the Sonic drive-in we’d stopped at in Rolla, I began to notice a change in the roadkill that dotted the highway. (No, no muskrats, but thank you to all of you who emailed your observations on that local phenomenon.)
As the bunco girls chatted about clothes and shoes, as well as the entertainers they expected to see in Branson, I started counting carcasses. I soon found that raccoons, the unofficial No. 1 roadkill here in northern Illinois, were being replaced by nine-banded armadillos—the armor-plated animal oddities also known as Texas speed bumps. By the time we got to Branson, there were no raccoons on the road (save for one, but it was very much alive, pacing back and forth in a cage in the back of a pickup truck). All the road lumps had hard shells, and were either armadillos or, in a few cases, box turtles.
You’re probably thinking, “Okaaay…but Branson is 500 miles from the TriCities. What’s your point?”
Well, my point—and I do have one—is that you might not need to drive 500 miles to see a roadkill armadillo. Today, they can be found right here in Illinois.
Nearly 200 of the little critters, which are about the size of an opossum, have been sighted in our state over the last 20 years; 90% of those sightings have occurred since the year 2000. The majority of documented armadillo sightings have occurred in the southern third of the state, with counties along the southern and western borders tallying the most. But sightings as far north as Cook and DuPage Counties have folks wondering, “What’s the deal with ‘dillos?”
Clearly, something (besides armadillos) is afoot. Wildlife biologists, however, freely admit they don’t know what. What they know for sure is that armadillos are expanding their range at a rate nearly 10 times that of pretty much any other mammal. But why? No one really can say for sure.
Theories, of course, abound. Since 1849, when armadillos first appeared in Texas, lots of changes have occurred in our United States landscape. Mile upon mile of forest and woodland have been converted to open farm fields, areas that provide favorable habitat for armadillos. In addition, interstate commerce, with its tractor trailors and box cars, has provided armadillos with ample opportunity to stow away and start a life in a new state. Other theories include armadillos island-hopping their way across the Mississippi River; walking over bridges across the Mississippi; and getting captured, then let loose, by people who later discover that armadillos aren’t great pets.
Climate change is another factor that may weigh in in the great armadillo debate. With little fur and no inclination to hibernate, armadillos need to live in areas that have limited stretches (about nine days max.) of below-freezing temperatures. But temperature patterns throughout the country are shifting.
The same holds true for rainfall. Armadillos need to live where there is annual precipitation of at least 15 in. per year, so that the invertebrates they feed on can survive. But areas that were once very dry are now getting more moisture. Could some well placed April showers be bringing not only May flowers, but also armadillos, to areas that before had none?
In some ways, the armadillo reminds me of another animal we now consider a native in our area: the opossum. Both creatures belong to ancient orders and are primitive in nature; both have made their way well into North America, even though South America was where they began. Neither are fussy eaters, nor are they well adapted to the cold. Still, opossums made the trek and now are quite at home here in the TriCities. Could armadillos be next? Only time, and maybe roadkill, will tell…
Pam Otto is the manager of nature programs and interpretive services for the St. Charles Park District. She can be reached at potto@stcparks.org or 630-513-4346.