I hate Snakes

                                                                     The Mesquite Bean

                                                                         I Hate Snakes.

 

   I hate snakes.  The word “hate” is not a strong enough word. “Loathe,” I loathe snakes. Snakes make me cringe and send cold shivers down my spine. The other day I was on the computer and saw an article with a picture of a Python wrapped around a woman’s neck. The title was..”The newest spa treatment! Neck massage by a Python.” I kid you not. It went on the say that the treatment was all the rage and costumers were plentiful. Apparently, the Python did an amazing job! Now this was internet news so who knows if it is true, if you have not noticed not everything, you read on line is the truth. I hate to break the news but they make up things from time to time. I am going with it’s a true story factor because I think there are people out there in the world that are just stupid enough to pay to have a bone crushing snake wrap itself around their scrawny necks and think it was fun.

  I am sure the first words I understood as a small child were these, “watch for snakes!” My home was a mile from the Brazos River and we were snake infested. Not just little bitty puny rattlesnakes. I am talking big granddaddy snakes. It was not uncommon to find snakes over five feet long. It was not uncommon to find them on porches. In flowerbeds. In the barn. In addition, on a couple of occasions a few small ones were found in my Grandmother’s house!  Mamaw had what we called her “snake holler,” and when she hollered you better come with a hoe, shovel, shotgun or 22 because there was a snake lurking somewhere that needed to die.

  My sister and I laugh when we are reminiscing about our childhood snake adventures. Its only God’s grace we were never bitten. I remember playing on our swing and going down the slide numerous times, when all of a sudden we heard the dreaded buzz of a tail. We screamed like little girls do and daddy came running. He had a hoe and pulled the nasty critter out from where he had been having a nap right under the base of the slide. We ran up and down the river all summer long having adventure upon adventure. The “watch for snakes,” mantra was so ingrained in us that from a young age we knew there were certain things you did not do when you lived in snake country. Never stick your hand where you cannot see. Never sit down until you look around good. And if you ever do get bitten, don’t panic! I am so glad we never had to test out that rule! I am not entirely sure that if I ever get snake bitten it will not be the poison that will kill me. I will go into heart failure and that will be that! Another thing I am sure of is that when my sister and I are very old we will have hunchbacks. We spent our whole childhood walking looking down at the ground. The behavior did not stop at childhood. My sister once told me someone asked her why was she so sad all the time. She asked them what they meant. She was not sad. They said well, you walk around all downtrodden with your head down. She just laughed and told them she was not sad, she was just watching for snakes! Of course the explanation made perfect sense to her, I am not too sure they understood  why you would be watching for snakes in the middle of a mall, but let me tell you, if there was a snake in there she would have seen it! Moreover, she would have been able to kill it by whacking it on the head with nothing but her purse!

     In addition to the whole learning how to “watch”, for snakes Daddy schooled us in the fine art of dispatching of them.  The preferred method was by shooting them. However, there were times that just could not be done, say they had curled up under the propane tank. A hoe was the instrument of choice for that location. There is an art to killing a snake under a propane tank. Or under anything else for that matter. It is easier to do it than explain it. But here goes. You take the hoe and drag out the snake, this is not that easy because it makes them mad and they go all writhing and hissing with an occasional strike thrown in just because they can. When you get the snake out from under whatever it was under you have to go to work. Keep in mind, the snake is mad. Moreover, a mad rattlesnake is dangerous…disclaimer. Do not attempt this at home except under the supervision of an experienced snake exterminator. You notice I said, “Snake exterminator,” I didn’t want to say “snake killer,” because I am trying to be sensitive to all those people out there that are traumatized by words. Apparently, there are such things as “trigger,” words now and if they hear a word that scares them, they have to go to a safe space, color a picture or pet a puppy. I do not understand it all but I want to do my part in making the world a safer safe space place for them. I digress, on with the story.  Stand a good distance from the snake, then with all your might do a kinda step forward move while bringing the hoe down all the same time. This takes practice do not feel bad about yourself if you do not get it right the first time. It may take several times of doing the snake-killing two-step before you make good contact. Good contact means, if you are the sensitive type than quit reading now. Good contact means the snakes head is detached from its body. The snake is now dead. I know that might make some of you sad. However, in my sphere of the universe it is them or me.  I chose me. I do not want a lecture and I do not want bumper stickers that say, “Snakes have lives too!” I am fully aware they have lives and they need to live their lives away from my porch. And if they abide by my rules we will all live in peace and harmony.

God Bless and Happy Trails.