Yesterday was our 9th wedding anniversary. It was a particularly uneventful day (as is typical for us), until Ashley got home from her mom’s house and found this in the garage.
This picture is from Wikipedia, and is not a picture of the actual snake that she saw. However, from her description, this is what the “Wildlife Relocation Specialist” said it probably was.
Now, I’m not a particularly brave person anyway, but I’m more than a little freaked out by this. I have this unreasonable fear of snakes of all types. I don’t like to see them behind glass at the zoo. I let everyone else go into that building and I wait outside. The snake she saw was 3-4 feet long and as big around as a healthy banana or kiwi fruit at it’s thickest point. Around here they call it a “Black Snake” and it is not poisonous.
By the time the wildlife guy got there from Lexington, the snake was gone. But he said it probably lives in our garage. (Thanks for that, buddy.) He tore our garage apart to make sure it was gone, so now I have to go through all the stuff in our garage and put it back where it goes… and hope that the snake hasn’t come back and taken shelter in the pile that he made.
The guy said, “I know you know this, but you basically live in the woods.”
“I know,” I said.
“You’re going to have snakes around here.”
Maybe I’ll just have someone come back and cut the garage off the front of our house and haul it away. Who needs a garage anyway, right?
I. Hate. Snakes.