Friends,
I’ll take a photo when my pulse slows down!
I move the water hose, and think is that a pile of dog poop in my grass? That is one sick dog.
I straighten up. Wait. Is that a plastic toy?
Whoa!
Did I see a tongue move?
What do I do???
Call 911?
Call an exterminator?
Pray?
RUN?
I think, It is in striking distance, diamond shape skin. I am wearing flip flops – NEVER do that again! Get ready to move right foot back and be ready to run.
GO!
Into the garage I run. No good killing tools, they are out back. Door locked.
Run around towards front door. 6 feet from snake… still there.
Inside the door, I pulled my right boot on, left boot would only go half way on. Boots are meant for socks.
I run out the back door.
I see a hoe and a lawn aerator. PERFECT, I scream in my head.
I run back to the front yard. What did I see?
SNAKE!
Still coiled up ready to strike.
I pause about 45 seconds to adjust aerator for best pinning shot. I STRIKE!
GOT IT! It seems to be only partially pinned. I keeps hiding under the aerator.
I tap. And I tap.
This is not working.
CHOP.
It strikes out trying to run.
From the long arm of Judge Roy Bean, ‘Law west, and east of the Pecos?’
NEVER.
Chop. chop.
chop chop.
CHOP!
WHEW! I think I need a cool down. Blog it. Then shoot it (not with the .45’s, the camera!)”
Would you have shoot it with a 1911 .45? Or, do you wish it had been a politician?
Wayne
luvsiesous 