Uninvited Guest

I love animals.

Dogs, outdoor cats, gerbils, dolphins...

And tigers (of course).

I love them all.

Maybe even bears and zebras.

SNAKES, on the other hand, don't qualify !

Snakes aren't animals.

Snakes are creepy, slithering, creatures with no shoulders.

I don't like critters that have no shoulders.

Like this guy...

The one with the crushed head.

I took this picture Sunday afternoon.  At this point, the creepy, slithering creature with no shoulders was in my front yard.

However, just moments before this picture was taken, he was....

IN OUR KITCHEN !

Yes, I said

IN OUR KITCHEN !

I was minding my own business Sunday afternoon, enjoying what was left of Father's Day.

Sitting in the den watching the final round of the U.S. Open.

My Better Half walked through the den, rounded the corner and headed into the kitchen.

And screamed like a little girl !

Scared the crap out of me !

But I don't blame her.

THERE WAS A SNAKE IN OUR KITCHEN !!

Just as Graeme McDowell rolled in another par putt on #12 at Pebble Beach.

A SNAKE IN OUR KITCHEN !!

Now, I don't know very much about snakes.

I can't tell from looking at them whether they're poisonous or non-poisonous.

I can't tell form looking at them what kind they are.

I can't tell from looking at them whether they are indigenous to Cameroon.

Or the tropical rain forests of south America.

Or south Louisiana.

I don't care.

What I CAN tell from looking at them is they certainly don't belong in my kitchen !!

IN MY KITCHEN !!

I wasn't real sure what to do at that point.

The last thing I wanted was to startle it and have it slither into a cabinet, or under the refrigerator.

By the same token, I wasn't about to reach down and grab the shoulder-less little creep and turn him loose in the yard.

So I went to the store room and grabbed a hoe.

Not one of Tiger Woods's ho's.

(Sorry, couldn't resist the golf joke).

What I grabbed was a standard, garden-variety hoe.

By the time I got back to the kitchen, our little uninvited friend was curled up in a ball of creepy,
cold-blooded, shoulder-less reptile.

Darting his little fangs in and out.

And hissing.

Oh, hell no !

Not in my kitchen !

I pinned him behind his creepy little head with the hoe.

And pressed down.

Hard.

Cut off his oxygen.

Rendered him dead.

Then I scooped him up on the blade of the hoe and took him outside.

Where he belongs in the first place.

And rendered him even deader.

THEN and only then did I wonder what kind of snake he was.

Yes, I said WAS !

Turns out he was more than likely a non-poisonous Prairie Kingsnake.

 Again, I don't really care.

The important thing is that he was no longer living.

And no longer in my kitchen.

In my mind, there's only one kind of GOOD snake.



And that's a DEAD snake !

Until next time...