To each his own. To me my own.

The Snake Whisperer

Snakes in general terrify me, and I hate them. I don’t want to hear about how beneficial black, corn and king snakes are – or the fact that they’re non-poisonous. They’re the stuff my nightmares are made of, and I could definitely see myself having a coronary over one. About five years ago, I stepped on a baby copperhead in my house **YES I SAID IN MY HOUSE** and I’m still not over that. Did I mention I was barefoot?

My boyfriend has had several recent encounters with black snakes which I think he rather enjoys. In each instance, he’ll ‘rescue them by moving them (by hand) to a tree or another part of his yard.

Last week’s instance (these are his pictures… I told him that second one was Nat Geo material):

Lo and behold, Saturday night here came another one (a different one) on the wrought iron railing of his porch. Once again, K gathers it up and places it ‘safely’ back in a tree. The thing was obviously looking for some eggs or baby birds, as it was about 4 feet from both when he happened upon it.

Sunday morning, we woke up to this in the kitchen window (taken through a screen with my cell phone, so it’s grainy):

Upon further inspection outside, he’s pretty sure this is the same one from his porch Saturday night. Now, I’m telling the truth here when I say that snake was gazing at K adoringly, almost lovingly; as lovingly as a snake can look, anyway. It’s almost as though it was thanking him for not killing him the previous night.

Right before camping out by the pool for the afternoon, he saw a mockingbird chasing another one away across the back yard. Ugghh.

All I can say is, word’s really getting around throughout the snake community that this is the yard to go to. C’mon over, buds!! Plenty ‘o bird life, and Massa’ won’t kill ya here…


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