I hate snakes.
I don't even want to hear about what they're good for, how they really are not as slimy as they look, and that they might be my friend. I hate 'em.
If you've been following me here and/or at Facebook, you know we have a lot of critter company. Little Deer, two sheep and a goat, a parade of chickens and roosters, and some bunnies.
They're all sweet and they're all welcome, although I'd like the goat more if he wouldn't poop in our carport.
Little Deer even lets us touch him - although he seems to be getting wise to the ways of his fellow deer, and is keeping a little more distance than he once did.
Well, today we had another visitor. Not a welcome one. And not in the yard.
I walked over to the shredder to shred this afternoon's junk mail and Harley started barking at the thing like a house afire. He does not like the shredder, but this did seem a little excessive. When I looked at him, he wasn't really looking at the shredder, but at the black cord beside it. Welllllll, I didn't have my glasses on, but I did notice that the black cord seemed to be moving, and it didn't appear to be attached to anything.
My brain screamed "SNAKE!"
I screamed "HOLY SHIT!"
Harley agreed, loudly barked his assent and up the stairs we ran, stumbling over one another like crazy - taking time only to slam the door behind us.
This is when I remember to say my "Thank You's" for a husband who will answer the phone at work, hear me say "SNAKE!," and respond "I'm on my way."
Harley and I spent the next 20 or 25 minutes telling one another it probably really wasn't a snake. Just the cord. And boy was Donald Barley gonna tease us about this for years to come.
Snake has been found (under the washer).
Snake has been removed.
And Harley's too (who still hates the shredder, now more than ever).
Good Riddance Mr. Snake!! Don't come back! (pretty please)