Yesterday the UPS truck swung into the driveway. As I went to the door to greet him I saw him recoil when he jumped out of the truck. I wondered what prompted that alarming reaction. I knew it wasn’t anything I had done, but Scott was right behind me so naturally I thought it was something to do with him (what’s a husband for but on whom to lay blame). I opened the door and realized there was a huge snake right outside the door. Holy freakin’ crap !!! I jumped back. It started its crawl into the house between the door and wall jamb. Scott quickly appraised the situation and just as quickly slammed the door shut while I stood there babbling (did I say babbling, I meant “shrilling”, which is like babbling, but two octaves higher). The UPS driver left the package at the end of the walkway, waved, wished us luck and left. Meanwhile, we had the head of the snake staring at us inside the now slammed shut door.
Scott and I looked at each other and laughed WTF Now What. We decided to simply let it die there since it pretty much was choking between the door and wall anyway. We thought it would soon be over. Time passed. I went out the back door and pared back the geraniums (my girlfriends are coming over for lunch in a few days; I wanted pretty colors on the back deck). Another hour later I walked by the front door and it was still turning its head trying to figure out how it had come to find itself in that position and what to do about it. Oh man, now I was starting to feel sorry for the poor thing.
Later, the fedex truck pulled up. He too saw the snake when he jumped out of, and back into, the cab. Thoughtfully, he called to let us know that there was a snake at our front door; yes, thank you. After taking a photograph of the scene, he left the scene. (Typical Gen X, or Gen Y, or Millenial, whatever -- don’t do anything about it, just photograph it.) Once again, our package was deposited at the end of the walkway, next to the UPS package.
Scott decided that it was time to take action. This was not going to be a repeat of the mouse incident of some years ago. That time, we used a glue trap. The mouse was quickly trapped but it took two days for the poor thing to die. This time, we were not going to be under house arrest while we waited for the sorrowful snake to die. The next thing I knew Scott had walked through the garage and picked up the large branch cutter from our nest of gardening tools. With that, at the door, he handily lopped the body off the snake. I stood inside and watched him working. Fortunately I couldn’t see too much due to the somewhat darker recessed entry so this particular Mutual of Omaha moment was, thankfully, lost on me. He neatly pulled the six foot long snake’s body away from the entry way and carried it out to the forest. Damn, that thing was long. Did I mention that I stood inside and watched him working. When he returned, he asked me to open the door, Wha? I unlocked it, then ran. Apparently, at the open door the head fell to the ground, which he again carried out to the forest. I was nowhere to be found.
When it was all over, I praised my hero for his life saving actions. Scott. My tower of courage, my Indiana Jones, although Jones, the wimp, was afraid of snakes.
