Snake in the Grass

     Such a peaceful day...Morning chores all done. Meetings tended to...Errands run. We even stopped for burgers while winding our way back home. Life on the farm in all its glory with Pat, my right hand farm man, without whom I would be lost.
     Allowing Layla her afternoon walk as my other dogs barked their heads off, gunnin' to play with her, Pat asked "So what do you do with YOUR snakes?"
     I thought it a theoretical question before rounding the stairs...

     There in the grass...just clearing the irises that line my deck...
     A girl's worst nightmare (Ok. ok...Not poisonous, but still...)

See the snake in the grass?
(Yeah...neither did I.)

     I went inside to fetch my gun, but as soon as I hit the stairs, I began to have second thoughts...I saw a turtle on Facebook this morning with instructions on how to properly usher him off the road... Been thinking ever since of how life really IS about balance. Ecosystems rock! I was having serious second thoughts and debating things back and forth in my head...But still, I brought the gun down just in case...

     "I dunno Pat...Maybe we should let him live. After all it's just a black snake, right?"

     How many times had I heard these are the good guys...I have (had)  one in the back named Joe Black(snake)...Why it could be Brad Pitt in a snake body for all I knew, out for an afternoon stroll.

     So what if he's 14 feet long, I told myself..They ARE good for killing mice and the yard did have fewer moles...

     Joe Black and I had come to terms with all this last summer...He could have the back deck,  I would take the front.  It was like a divorce settlement between girl and snake...Who needed that picnic table anyway (or the grill or my reading chaise) ?  If  I feel the need to come out back, Joe Black, I'll make a lot of noise...So far this system was working.

     Debating it back and forth, I now leaned  toward photo op over target practice when suddenly and blindly (and very blondely I might add) I stepped around the corner to ask " Where'd he go, Pat?" at the precise same moment that Pat screamed "DON'T ... STEP  ..... TH"


     It was too late.
     SQUISH went my sandal onto his little snake head....

     EEEEEEIiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii came the blood curdling scream as I ran as far and as fast as I could ...(Somewhere in the background was Pat yelling "BE STILL> BE STILL > BE STILL>>Don't RUN!")

     OK. So...Note to guys everywhere, Eve may've enjoyed her chat, but the rest of us are wired to scream like banshees...ESPECIALLY after stepping on one!

     I raced to the safety of my front porch door, grabbed the gun, paused long enough to quit hyperventilating...meanwhile Joe Black (or his brother or his mother or his father ...don't know/don't care) Someone family kin to him (if not him) was was ready to strike...and were I in their skin, I'd be there too....)

     Just then another wave of guilt ...

    "I dunno what to doooooo....." I whined..."He could've bitten me, and he didn't!!...What if it's a sign...May be a test..." (my doubting mind now challenging my female gut instinct)

    "This is true," Pat said (now laughing) ..."Then again, he could just be planning his revenge when you to come weed things tomorrow"

     I hand him my Glock.

    "Do it. Just DO it."

     I bow my head, put fingers in ears and ask both God and snake to please forgive me for what is about to happen. (Pull the friggin' trigger, Pat...Pull the friggin' trigger.)

    I watch as his guts are blown to smithereens... spewing over flowerbeds and trees alike...All I can say is my beautiful flowers will never be the same again...

     (Well, Duh...For starters, they're about to have a lot more weeds.)