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I have to tell you I HATE snakes. I remind myself that they eat rodents and other icky things, and that the majority of them are not poisonous, but that really doesn’t help much.
Yesterday Sweet Little Elderly, mostly deaf Molly asked to go out. I let her out the front door, only to belatedly see a snake curled up just off the porch pad in the yard. Molly immediately began barking at it, in a frenzy.
When I tried to get her back inside, our 94-pound lab puppy, Amber, dashed out between me and the door, also barking, hair standing up on her back from one end to the other.
I finally got both dogs back in and went to get a pistol. My husband took it from me, went out, looked at the short, fat snake and decided that it might be poisonous, and so shot it. I encouraged him to make SURE it was dead. He then picked it up gingerly and threw it ‘off-the-edge’ of the civilized part of our property.
I then let Molly back out and life returned to normal around here.
Until last night when I was trying to go to sleep. I was suddenly swamped with prickly feelings, the feeling that ‘something’ was trying to crawl on me, memories of the snake…. I ended up going downstairs and reading for another hour until I got sleepy again.
Did I tell you I HATE snakes?
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