Most people who know me well, know they can expect to hear a blood-curdling scream if I see a snake on the loose anywhere in my general vicinity.
Even my dog Molly is starting to realize that, while I greatly appreciate her attack on garter snakes down at the farm, I do not like having the scaly, curled-up critters left just outside the back door of the house.
And, as she learned just a couple of weeks ago, I really do not like it when she picks up a snake and carries it toward me as if to present a gift.
Yes, Molly has heard enough screams from me over snakes to know when she’s been a bad, bad dog.
It doesn’t matter if I’m walking across the lawn, driving the lawnmower or — in the most recent incident — driving my car, I will undoubtedly react to the sudden appearance of a garter snake.
Luckily for Herman Hinders, my fishing buddy of the day last Friday, I didn’t scream at a high-pitched decibel from the driver’s seat. Instead, I took my hands — both of them — off the steering wheel and shuddered as if hearing someone run her fingernails down a chalkboard.
Yep, it was at that moment that Herman, a local World War II veteran, learned of my fear of snakes. (I’d run the snake over, by the way, entirely by accident. I thought it was a stick until I looked in my rearview mirror to see the critter curling up. The mental picture still makes me shudder!)
Well, Herman had a good laugh at my expense and then proceeded to share one of his many stories — this one of a man who got lost in the fog along a river and ended up eating snake for supper. (Oooh, I’m cringing again!)
Herman and his buddy wouldn’t have believed the tale, except the guy held up what was left of the long-bodied reptile.
The snake incident was about the only drama to come out of our fishing expedition on Friday — the fish certainly weren’t interested in providing us with a source of great tales.
Still, as the saying goes, even a bad day at the lake is better than a day at the office. Just keep the snakes away, if it’s not too much to ask!