Damn, the water pump stopped working...

Living in rural America has it's own set of challenges.  Running water, for instance, is a whole subject onto itself.  Getting it where you want it, keeping it under control, and then removing it when you're done with it...  water does seem to have a mind of it's own.  I know it's only the manifestation of gravity at work, but it seems alive to me.

Anyway, so two days ago I am having this VERY strange dream that a friend from my Navy day in Kami Seya Japan was talking to me, shaking me, and telling me I had to wake up because "they" needed me. "You need to wake up!  We need you!"  OK.  So, now I'm awake.  My first thought is  "geeze, that was weird".  I haven't talked to that particular person for, hummmmm, what maybe 15 years.  OK. 

So, I get up and do a quick scan of the house.  Nothing seems to be amiss.  I quickly head to the bathroom.  No problem in here.  I let the dog out for her morning tinkle.  She doesn't seem to find anything particularly interesting going on outside.

Peanut dog... guardian extraordinary!

Peanut and I come back in the house.  My next normal activity is to fill the tea kettle so I can get my morning coffee fix.  I turn on the kitchen faucet, and all I get is air.  WHAT THE HECK?!  I quickly go and check the toilet to make use it had filled when I used it.  Sure enough, the water tank is full.  Now I'm confused!

On go my boots.  With flashlight in hand, I head out to the pump house.  There's not a sound, and there's a fresh very wet hole in the ground in front of the structure.  Exactly where the water line comes out into the ground.  CRAP!!  Is this from a water leak?  From all the rain we had that day (3 inches)?  Damn, damn, damn....

The little red building is the pump house

I tromp back into the house.  What to do?  I need to turn the power off to the pump, just in case the tank out in the pump has sprung a leak or something.  I don't want the pump to keep running and burn up.  Now, I couldn't hear the pump running when I was at the pump house.  But, our pump is 400 feet underground!  That makes it kinda hard to hear.

In order to turn off the power to the pump, I need to access the circuit breaker which is in our bedroom closet.  It's 4:30 AM.  It's dark and my husband John is still sleeping.  As much as I hate to, I gently shake John and tell him "Honey, the water pump's not working.  I need to shut it off."  He mumbles, "well turn the power off".  Yep.  On comes the light.  I open the closet and find the right breaker switch.  Ok.  Pump power is now off.

In the morning light, when my husband and son Josh are up and awake, they discuss the lack of water.  John heads to the pump house and Josh gets the tools.  I follow along, hoping to be useful.  John let's me know my assistance is not required, "go do you're own stuff.  We got this."  OK.  Fine.  And so Peanut and I go feed the chickens.
After about 20 minutes investigation of the inside of the pump house and the wet hole in the yard....  it's determined that the power box inside the pump house has been pulled off the wall.  This shut off the power to the pump.  Out comes the electric screw driver.  The power box is re-installed on the wall.  Now, into the house to turn the power switch back on.  Back out to the pump house.  Sure enough.  Everything is working fine.

And who caused all this commotion?  Here's the culprit.  A damn armadillo!

Digging a nice hole, trying to get into the pump house.  And it pulled the power box right off the wall, turning the water pump off.  I hope the darn thing scared itself silly when it fell down!

How to you armadillo-proof your pump house????  I guess we put rocks around it.  We do live in Arkansas.  We have plenty of rocks.

So, the water's back on in half an hour.  We resume our day and wonder about the stupid armadillo.