SNAKES ALIVE?

SNAKE NUMBER ONE

So Charlie is strolling over to the calf paddock, and notices the cows are all standing, staring in the same direction; eyes fixed on something on the ground.

Wondering WTF, he comes up beside them, and turns to see what they’re all looking at. 

A brown snake.  Two foot long.  A baby. 

Yay.  Right next to a gate I’d just walked through not two hours earlier.  I hate that gate, because the latch is so hard to open and close.  I would have stood there for a few minutes with that fucker within cooee of me L

Charlie bolts off to the shed, comes back with a shovel, but it’s too late; the snake’s gone.  He rummages around in the grass, but can’t find him.  Great.  A two footer right near the house.

Somewhere.

People stupidly think that because they’re babies, they’re not as deadly.  They still have the same venom; still have the same effect. 

The only good snake, is a dead one.

SNAKE NUMBER TWO

‘Woman! Woman!’ Charlie yells from the back yard.  I’m in the study, and peer out the window at him.  He’s waving at me to come over.

*Sigh

I stroll through the house, out the back door (in thongs), and across to the veggie patch.

‘What’s up, babe?’ what the fuck does he want?  For fucks sake! Can’t he see I’m busy stalking my friends on Facebook?

‘Have a look at that.’ He points to the edge of the garden, and there, tangled in my bird netting, is a five foot brown snake.

‘What the fuck?’ my heart absolutely stopped, and my legs went weak.  Holy shit!

‘It’s dead.  It’s strangled itself in the netting.’

‘Thank fuck.’ My hand fluttered to my thumping heart.  Apart from the Zoo thing, I’ve never seen a snake like this.  It frightened the shit out of me.

‘That’s the second one in a couple of weeks now.’ He looks uncomfortably pissed off, if that makes sense.  Charlie doesn’t like snakes at all.  I’ve seen the dude flick and squash huntsman’s with his hands, but snakes are a completely different kettle of fish.

He climbs over the garden fence, strolls into the shed for his hunting knife and a feed back to dispose of the snake.  He comes back, cuts it free, whilst standing about ten feet away from it, if that’s at all possible.

‘How the fuck am I going to get it in the bag?’ he ponders aloud.

‘Just pick it the fuck up and put it in there.’  He just looks at me.  ‘Oh, for Christ’s sake…’ I mutter, and climb over the fence.

‘Don’t touch it…’

‘Why?  It’s dead, isn’t it?’

‘Yeah…’

‘Then it’s no threat to me…’ I said, grabbing the tail of the snake and picking it up.  I dropped it into the open bag, which Charlie tied off.

If figured if I didn’t touch it, I would always be terrified of them, like I am of spiders.  Not that I plan on chasing after snakes any time soon, but I’ve got to have some steel around them. 

I think of my poor friend Bek, who is absolutely petrified of them.  Poor darling had so many snakes in her back yard last summer that it wasn’t funny.  Lost a beloved dog to a bite, too. 

I think, over the several years we’ve been here, that Charlie’s seen like three snakes.  Now, in two or three weeks, he’s seen two.  Great.

Fucken snakes.  Legless spawns of Satan.

SNAKE NUMBER THREE

The very next night, we all pile into the ute, all prettied up and heading out to a friends party in Puckapunyal.

As we’re reversing out of the car port, Charlie hits the breaks and yells ‘Snake!’

My heart hammers to my throat again, and it takes a few moments for me to focus on the five foot brown slithering across the ground directly in front of the double glass doors of the back room.  A foot away from it, is Milo.

Milo’s walking toward the snake, a ‘hi, what are you? Can we be friends and play?’ look on his face, as he sniffs the air in front of him.  Wide eyed and innocent, my beloved stupid cat doesn’t have a clue what he’s walking toward.

‘Milo!’ I cry, pointing, as the snake rears up to strike.  ‘Charlie!’

Charlie slams the car in gear, and hammers toward the snake.  He toots the horn, which succeeds in scaring Milo off before the snake could strike (thank fuck), and slams on the brakes before crashing into the house (double thank fuck).

He hits reverse, and flies back.  He missed the fucken snake, and it casually slithers toward the house.

We all pile out of the car, in totally inappropriate footwear, and Jade runs off to the shed to get her father a shovel as Charlie and I watch this legless spawn of Satan slide under the house.

Great.

Charlie runs off to the shed to get one of his guns, as I stand there with the shovel, watching the boards he slithered between to get under the house.

I feel ten foot tall and bullet proof, cos I gots me a shovel.

‘Jade, get up on the decking, and watch out the back of the house.  See if it comes out there.’ I say, and she’s onto the decking in a heart beat.  Kid has the attention span of a fly, and is easily distracted by sparkly things.  She’s not likely to see the snake escape, but at least she’s safe up there.

Charlie comes back, grabs the shovel, and runs around the back to the hatch leading under the house.  I wander up to the northern end of the house beside the decking, my precious shovel replaced by a hoe.

Jade is above me on the decking, flapping her gums.  ‘Shut the fuck up, child!’ I bark.  ‘Listen to your father for once… be quiet and listen…’

‘I can see it!’ Charlie yells.  ‘Everyone stand perfectly still.’  I freeze, and a gunshot rings through the air.

Seconds later, this fucken serpent flies out from under the house, heading north toward the paddock.  Charlie comes flying around the corner, shovel in hand, and clobbers it a few times, but it’s just too fast. 

Where the fuck is your shotty, Char? I think to myself.  Watching Charlie chase this fucker around the fruit trees, I realise that the hoe in my hand is completely fucken useless.  It’s too small to do anything.  I need a fucken shovel.

I suddenly feel quite defenceless and completely exposed as the snake turns and starts slithering toward me.

Charlie clobbers it again, and it vanishes under the house.  Again.  This time, however, it’s about a foot shorter, as Charlie took a chunk off of him.

Charlie clambers under the house with the shovel, and I’m now on the decking, watching the eastern side of the house to see if it will come out. 

Our house is built on a slight hill, with a slab on the southern side, and the east, north and western sides on gradual stumps.  The only escape routes for the snakes are through the base boards, which are being watched.

Of course, this doesn’t mean he won’t get past us.  Jade’s still flapping her gums, in between me yelling at her to shut up and watch the fucken base boards. *rolls eyes*

After about ten minutes of Charlie banging and clanging around under the house, he can’t find the fucker, and gives up.

‘I know from Bek that if their skin is broken, they’re fucked, because all of the ants and flies will get to them, and they can’t shoo them off. ‘

‘Makes sense.  Fucker’s as good as dead then.’ Nods Charlie, and we pack up and pile into the car, and head off to our party a little more shaken than we’d like to admit.

SNAKE NUMBER FOUR

It’s Christmas day, and in about half an hour, we’re supposed to be heading into Kilmore for lunch at Trackside.

Charlie decides that this is the time to go hunting for fucken snakes *rolls eyes*. 

He wanders over to the gate near the calf paddock, and see’s the two foot baby again!  The slippery fucker disappears into the gate post! He realises then that the post must be hollow, and the fucker has been hiding in there all along.

Off to the shed he goes, and returns with a shovel and shotgun.

He bangs the base of the post, and sure enough, part of it collapses.  It’s definitely hollow.  ‘Where is the fucker?’ Charlie mutters to himself.

He shovels a heap of dirt around the hole and base of the post, trapping the snake in there.  He pokes his shotty through one of the holes further up the post, and fires two not-so-friendly shots into the post.

Nothing.  Either he’s dead or struggling, because there’s no escaping the shotty.

‘Any luck?’ I call from the verandah.  Hurry the fuck up man… we have to get going!

He rattles off his attack plan, and adds that if he’d had more time, he would have flooded the post and got him out that way.

‘That’s wonderful love.  Hurry the fuck up.  We’re going to be late.’

‘I couldn’t just leave it…’ he’s right.  He couldn’t leave it; he did the right thing.  But now we’re late.  Fucken.

Three snakes in four days.  One definitely dead.  Two maybe dead. 

How many more of the fuckers will turn up?

*sigh

‘I’m gonna teach you to use the shotty again.’ Charlie said.

‘No.  Fucken no way.’

‘Why not?’

‘It’s too powerful, Char.  It nearly blew my fucken shoulder off last time I tried to use it.  It’s too big for me.’  Visions of me bracing myself, aiming at an empty pot on a fence post, pulling the trigger, and staggering aback about four feet as pellets sprayed the sky filled my mind. 

The clouds are in more danger from me and a shotgun than a snake on the ground would be.

‘Fair enough.  I would just rather you have a go at a snake than leave it.’ he shrugs.

You’re fucken kidding, right? ‘Sure.  I’ll put my fucken life in danger.  I don’t mind.’  Last thing I’m gonna to do is go hunting fucken snakes.  ‘If you get a girly shotgun, we could be in business.’  I offer.

‘I think I might have to…’

Great.

Peace out.