Awhhhhh….SNAKE!!

I’m certain my neighbors think I’m clinically insane. Let me explain. I was playing fetch with Dexter in the fenced area beside our house. I was walking to grab a frisbee when I almost stepped on a large, slithering, scary SNAKE. And yes, I was barefoot! Eeek. After a freak-out, panic-stricken couple of seconds…I snapped back to reality just as Dexter came dashing towards me (and hence the snake) with his ball. I yelled at him to stop and quickly grabbed his collar to avoid a “Dexter vs. Snake” confrontation. We headed for the house. Honestly, I’ve encountered my fair-share of snakes over the years…chicken snakes in my Grandpa’s chicken coop, water moccasins, copperheads and even a rattlesnake on the back porch in Austin. But since living in Ohio my encounters with snakes to date = zero. I was quite honestly terrified. Especially since I am unfamiliar with snakes in Ohio and if they’re poisonous. Adding fuel to the “be terrified” fire was the fact that earlier in the week my friend Ali’s dog, Maggie, was bitten by a rattlesnake. Luckily, after an emergency vet visit she’s going to be just fine, but its still scary. 

After getting to safety (inside the house)…I contemplated what to do next .  At this point, on a scale of 1 to 10, my scared-ness level was at least an 11. My thought process went something like this…That was a BIG snake. Worst case scenario, its poisonous. Kyle’s at work.  Dexter might get bitten tomorrow if I don’t do something.  Kyle or I could step on it in the garden. Crap.  I’m going to have to go back out there to kill that S.O.B. 

Before heading into battle, I changed into my rubber boots. Safety first!! Then choice of weaponry…shovel or ax?!?!? Unfortunately I broke the garden hoe a couple of months ago, so my snake-killing weapon of choice was M.I.A.  I went with the longer handle…the shovel. 

To sum up the next 30+ minutes…the lil’ booger got away. I didn’t even get a swing at him. He was fast as lightening and headed through the chain link fence toward our house.  Eeeeek! My rubber boots were to big to fit in the chain links for me to climb over the fence in pursuit, and by the time I ran around the fenced area back into our yard, he was nowhere to be seen. 

So, there I was hunting a snake on a Tuesday afternoon.  Purple rubber boots with running shorts (keeping it classy), shovel in hand, terror-stricken expression, slowly pacing the backyard as if land mines were an issue,  jumping with every twig that grazed my leg, moving from one plant to the next in the backyard and bashing it with my shovel (my attempt to scare the lil’ bastard out of hiding). And since I’m terrified of birds to begin with, the fact that there are a few nesting in our backyard (hence protecting babies by flying towards my face) was the cherry-on-top. So, between being fixated on the ground looking for the snake and beating the hydrangeas, I was ducking (and cursing) those ungrateful birds. I mean I was really doing them a favor too…. In hindsight, I can only imagine what my neighbors perceived my snake hunt as. I die laughing just imagining what I must have looked like if they saw me (fingers-crossed none of them actually witnessed it). 

Anyway, long story shortened….Guess who I spotted the next day sunbathing by the backdoor.

RIP Mr. Garter Snake. 

On a side note - I find it very disturbing how snakes wriggle about hours after they’re dead. I mean, How do you really know they’re actually dead?!?!