My first encounter with a Diamondback Rattler was when I was 5 months pregnant with my first child, Fall of 2000. I was full of energy, rarely killed time, but spent it wisely, like on that particular day I was about to transplant floundering Geraniums into larger pots. Open the door of the potting shed and find myself startled by a fat, juicy Rattler, tensely coiled and to my utter shock and horror striking at me. Me! Me, all pregnant and defenseless, but not for long I slammed the door and screamed for my then husband and simultaneously pee'd my pants.
Together we tried to scare out the snake, nothing worked. We played peek-a-boo for a while before I had the brilliant idea of flooding the cinderblock shed with water, forcing the snake out of hiding. Before long it was desperately slithering up the walls in an effort to escape the rising flood. With a sharp shovel we pinned it near it's throat and both of us pushed with all our might until at last it caved. Neck compressed, it thudded lifelessly to the ground, all 5 feet of him.
Is it wrong to refer the event as exhilarating? Killing animals shouldn't be fun, but it felt right. That sucker tried to bite me and I was in the early stages of progressing lioness-hood, a mother in the making.
Next snake encounter, I was barefoot out back at my canyon house. In my silky bedclothes I do my best gardening, best baking, dusting, thinking, blogging, best everything. My first child toddled round outside in just her diaper while I productively (no time killing still) groomed a potted umbrella tree. As I scooped dead leaves from the plant's container something slither in my palm. I dumped the handful of leaves and looked at the contents of what I'd held only seconds before. This time the snake was small, but he coiled like a big boy prepped to strike and here is my daughter, nearly naked and curious, inches away from the head of little snakey. I used my heel this time. It's a good thing I'd killed little time getting pedicures because I imagine my calloused, hard feet made for more efficient head stomping. Once his noggin was flat, while his body still writhed I took a red plastic bucket from my little peanuts hands and placed it over the dying viper. Later I showed my spouse my kill. He used a ziploc to contain it, then proudly took it to work. He bragged about my fearlessness, killing the snake to spare my child, my barefooted bravery.
There are other snakes, but no more kills, only police incidents.
Last attempt to remove a Rattlesnake was more recent. I had both of my children with me and they were older, fully capable of speaking, like they did to the officers during the interrogation. The mature snake lounged boldly in the sun, once again in my back yard at the canyon house. I scared it off with a broom, but it was rather gutsy and selfish, returning over and over to the same sunny section of decking. This time I used a hoe and tried unsuccessfully to chop it's *^-*ing head off. I angered the snake and it angered me in return. One of us was likely going to die. In my temporary insanity I put the cordless phone in my back pocket, being cautious I dialed 911. All I'd have to do if bitten was push the "talk" button and I could die while telling the emergency operator where to find my frightened, likely traumatized children, who watched from the safety of the kitchen through the large glass door as mommy exhausted herself trying to terminate a large, venomous, sun loving monster. Snake was fast. He repeatedly got away, but I'd catch a glimpse of him hiding beneath a patio chair and try again to eliminate him, over and over until in my frustration I called my mate to complain. I'd forgotten about the precautionary 911.
15 minutes later, the snake was back and I was livid, screaming that I was going to kill it, cut it's bleeping head off, I was a little surprised to see two sheriffs in my kitchen talking to my children, asking them "who exactly mommy is threatening to murder" and then calling me Miss suggesting that I drop my weapon, which I did.
This year, 2011 it is my endeavor to kill as little time and as few snakes as possible. It is my resolution to make the most of everyday. So cheers and heres to making every moment count...
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