Snakes. I don’t like them.

If you don’t live in the middle of nowhere, you may not be aware that deer and other wildlife have trails; certain paths that they follow, to water or possibly gatherings where they plot my demise.

I am beginning to think snakes also have trails, and that my house must sit right in their path.  Or the other animals elected snakes as their assassins.  I really don’t know much about snakes.  I do know that I don’t like them, and I REALLY don’t like them in my house.

About 10 years ago I (briefly) rented the house that we bought last year.  At that time I was the single parent of two boys.  The baby woke me up and I stumbled into the kitchen for a bottle.  In my defense, it was dark, and I was mostly still asleep.  So I saw what my brain registered as a really stretched out ponytail holder on the floor, and I (stupidly) reached down to get it.  The fucker moved and I woke all the way up pretty quick.  It was about a 4 foot long black snake.  In my kitchen.  Luckily for me, its head was caught in a mousetrap, so it didn’t really have a lot of options.  I called my mom and she appeared magically, as she is wont to do in my times of need, wearing boots and bearing a shovel.

Then I moved.  Like, fucking immediately.

Fast forward 10 years, and we (stupidly) bought this house.  Last fall we had approximately three unwelcome guests.  Baby copperheads.  In my fucking house.

After I finished having a nervous breakdown, I liberally applied glue traps all over the house.  I made my husband pull up all the trim, even though we had remodeled before we moved in, and fill up every hole we could find.  I work from home, and for a time I sat at my desk inside a circle of glue boards so that nothing could get me.

Now it is fall again, and apparently this is snake baby-time.  Two weeks ago I was laying on the couch when my four-year-old walked up and asked, “What is that?” pointing at a spot in the floor between us.  “That” was a snake stuck to a glue trap.  She may have learned a new word that day.  This snake was dead already and my husband wasn’t home, so I called on my Super Mother Powers and somehow got the damn thing out to the porch.  Where I completely lost my shit and began beating the glue trap, sticky side and snake side down, on my porch.  I did this until I couldn’t lift my arms anymore.  It’s still there.  Glue traps are very sticky.

Last night it was raining and sometimes when it rains we have a leaky spot behind the T.V.  So right before bed I went to have a look, just in case.  This is what I saw:

Are you fucking kidding me?

So, I did what anyone would do.  I called my mom again.  This time the snake was still alive and, though well and thoroughly stuck, was trying to strike.  We managed to get it outside, which was really hard because I refused to let my feet touch the floor and had to climb on furniture all the way through the house.

After we took care of that bastard, I convinced myself that there were no more because my glue trap defense is working perfectly.  Then I put out every glue board I had (about 12).  There are probably close to 50 glue boards hidden all over my house at this point.  Even I don’t know where they all are.

I’m concerned.  Fall is just beginning, and we’ve already had two invaders.  I need more glue traps, and maybe some fire.

I think there is an animal conspiracy.  I believe the squirrels started it, and they’ve coordinated the whole mess.  They want me gone.  This could get really ugly.

About Steph

I like words. I suspect I would like sanity, but I really have no way of knowing. I can be reasonable, but not often. View all posts by Steph

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