I am not a fan of snakes. They're nasty, sneaky little buggars that exist to make me squeal and squirm. I realize they eat bugs and rodents and the like, but I honestly don't mind a few extra mice in the world.
My Redneck Husband and I have 27 acres. And a LOT of snakes. Rattlesnakes. Copperheads. Green snakes. Black snakes. Garter snakes. Water moccasins. Red-bellied water snakes.
I realize that most snakes are more afraid of me than I am of then. I also dispute this theory with the following Take of Two Snakes.
My friend Tabor died today, and I felt a serious need for some sunshine and Juni laughs. We opened the pool a few days ago, and he's been swimming every day. Today it was sunny and in the upper-80s, so we headed to the water.
I'm crossing the bridge over the ditch in the back yard, and stop to admire my irises. And then I see it. A snake. A big, fat, long snake. He picks his head up, and I catch a glimpse of his red belly. I'd never even heard of a red-bellied water snake until I married my husband. They're not poisonous, but they're also not afraid of anything. In fact, they're actually pretty aggressive.
I stop straight in my tracks and tell Juni to go to the pool. That's when I realize there's another snake, about a foot from the first, lying in the dried ditch.
At this point, I begin to freak out. There are two snakes within 10 feet of my pool. And I'm betting it's not coincidence that they have the word "water" in their names.
So I call Jasen. I'm not sure what I expected him to do from 45 minutes away, but it's not like we have any neighbors. It's at this point I begin regretting my choice to not learn how to shoot a gun. I would have shot both of those bastards point-blank if I'd had the chance.
But as it stood, Juni was barefoot and I was in sandals and shorts. Not the best snake-hunting attire. Jasen tells me to watch them for a half-hour while Buddy, his 85-year-old grandfather, drives over to kill the snakes.
I hang up the phone, and the UPS man pulls in, which of course freaks out my dogs, which causes the snakes to get moving.
And that's when I realize I can no longer see one of the snakes. I'm thinking he's inches from my ankle, of course. But no. He's intertwined with the other snake. Ewe. I've seen this on the Discovery Channel. Again, let me say...Ewe.
They're spinning around, headed toward the pool, Juni is freaking out, the puppy is acting like a crazy dog, and I'm squealing.
Sadie decided it might be a good idea to say hello to the snakes. Not so much. They actually went after her. Lunging,snapping, retreating under a bush.
All the while, I'm looking for something to defend my dog with, and come up with some sort of pitiful rake with only three tines.
The snakes then go into what we call the Red Shed. It's basically an enclosed car port with our giant lawn mower and system for the pool.
Buddy arrives, some sort of 40-year-old wooden bat in hand, determined to beat the life out of these snakes. And of course he spends an hour and can't find them.
Lovely. Jasen gets home, can't find them, and tells me he's going to get some sort of sulphur powder that keeps them away from the house. I'm not amused when he comes bouncing up to the house, yelling that he shot another one at the barn.
That's three sighting in one afternoon. I'm thinking this qualifies as an infestation. And major cause for concern. I'm definitely thinking the Red Bellies are coming. And so are the nightmares tonight. Snakes are a favorite of my subconscious, and today just gave it fuel.
I'm definitely jumpy, and not looking forward to closing my eyes. Then again, I also have a valid reason for not going into that Red Shed, and, therefore, not spending the 1.5 hours it costs me to mow the lawn...
