a snake in my yard

I had planned to share my garden with you today. I have a growing passion for gardening and I especially enjoy filling all the planters on my deck. So on one of these last, beautiful afternoons before the frost makes its mark on my deck, I wanted to take a few pictures.


However, before I snapped too many, I was interrupted by my golden retriever Sam barking. Just like I recognize the many cries of my children, I knew Sam had found a snake. He’s found snakes before and proves to be a reliable alarm. And, with 40 acres surrounding us, we are used to finding them near the house.

Since the boys are with me, I head over to Sam to keep the boys from getting too close until I determine how big it is, if it is harmless, etc. This snake appears to be harmless enough, and we watch it slither about in the grass . . . UNTIL it heads back towards the house. It manages to slide its way under the siding where the frame meets the foundation. All of a sudden it dawns on me that the snake has probably just wiggled its way into my basement. I ran back inside, then downstairs, and sure enough I can see it coming in at the top of the foundation. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! Honestly, I was not completely panicking at this point. I was thinking, “you can not let this snake in the basement at all costs.” By now, my MIL has entered into the commotion; she picks up my old, broken watering wand and starts banging in on the wall, all the while screaming at the top of her lungs. IT WORKS. The snake retreats back up into the hole. I run back outside to make sure it has actually exited the house. Nope. It is still in the house. I figure that it must be in the insulation above the foundation. I yelled this through the wall to my MIL who know whacks at the insulation. Immediately the snack shoots out of the house through my legs and out in the yard. Problem solved. BUT, it dawns on me, that this snake knows how to get in my house and thus must die. (I don’t kill snakes . . . they eat all those field mice) My son brings me a hoe and I gave the snake a good whack. It’s dead. It’s not moving. I’m satisfied. Yet, my MIL, who has come out of the basement to make sure I’m killing the snake, starts destroying the snake, and yes, she is still yelling with each strike. I have witnessed overkill.

If your curious, here’s my snake. It was about 3 feet long.



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