“Silly armadillo. I don’t want to eat you. I want to be your friend.” Clara squatted over the armored ball. “It isn’t nice to always run away, Daisy.”

“Mhim hmm hhmt mimhhm,” mumbled the ball.

“What?” asked Clara, leaning closer.

“Mhim hmm hhmt mihmhhm!”

“I can’t hear you,” said Clara. “Unball yourself!”

The armadillo stuck out its pointy face. “I said, “My name’s not Daisy!’”

“Oh,” said Clara. “What’s your name then?”

“Arturo Antonio Armadillo,” he declared.

“Hmmm,” sighed Clara, “I think Daisy is a much nicer name.”

“Why do you keep scaring me?” the Armadillo asked.

“I didn’t mean to scare you. I want to be your friend.”

Clara and the Armadillo