For the most part, I love animals. I have 2 boys and as such I have thrown the pet owner hat into the ring more times than I can count. Here is a list of animals I have owned over the past 22 years.
Three died, one ran away (who can blame him) I lost one in the divorce, we put one down, and two still live. Barely.
I lost one in the divorce, and the other 2 died.
More fish than I can count, frogs, a black widow (for scientific purposes) a praying mantis, a scorpion, a bearded dragon, a hamster, and a parrot who hated everyone. I am not a stranger to creatures. I have systematically pared down our animal intake. I am the ONLY one who takes care of them despite pleas of ‘but mom, I’ll take care of it this time. I promise!’(LIAR!)
For years I have taken in the strays with only ONE rule. NO SNAKES! I have stood adamant. Firm. Unbending.
I told them it was not allowed in the house. I don’t care. Put the cage in the garage. No. I won’t feed it or water it. No. I won’t buy its food of tiny baby frozen mice. No. I won’t clean its cage. No I won’t hold it. No. I don’t care if it dies. And most of all, NO it’s never allowed in the house. EVER.
I don’t like snakes. The original snakes’ real name is SATAN. Check Genesis in the BIBLE. They don’t blink and they smell with their tongues. They are sneaky and hissy and they bite. They feel icky and a big enough snake can squeeze you to death, or kill you.
And we already have a snake. An insidious dangerous creature that hides in our back yard and his name is The Rattler. And it tried to kill my poor dog Eddie and it’s a miracle that he lived because the snake is bigger than him. See the photo.
And I stood firm and the snake went to the garage. For a week. Because then there was a cold snap in California. So then I was all, ok, you can bring the snake into the house but it has to stay by the front door. And so now we have a giant snake tank sitting on a pony wall right when you walk in and it balances precariously there, and threatens to fall off whenever the door is slammed. Which in my house is all day everyday.
I know you are wondering why I have explained all this to you. Well. I will tell you why. Because on Friday night when we got home at midnight, after sitting in Riverside Carmageddon, the snake appeared to be missing. You heard me. It escaped. And the boy was sleeping, so I put him in bed, and BTM was in such a spin that it was almost worth it that the fucking snake had gotten loose. Almost. Cripes Almighty. I thought he was gonna cry.
So then we spent the next hour moving the couch and checking under shit with flashlights, and looking in the dogs’ mouths for any sign of snake. (One could only hope that Poor Eddie had his revenge.) And I was getting more and more pissed, and BTM was all how he was so pissed at the kids, and then he took out a frozen mouse and laid it on the floor and turned all the lights off and then went up to a loft with a flashlight and stood watch waiting for the snake to emerge. And I went to bed. And I dreamed of a giant snake biting me in the face.
And then BTM came to bed and said he got the snake and I didn’t have to worry anymore. Because now he is a snake hunter.
And now the snake is hiding from me, and won’t come out. Because it knows. I. DON’T. CARE. And I have time to wait my precious.