I got something of a surprise the other day to walk around the corner of my house and see a red-bellied black snake wriggle away across the concrete. I’d seen the occasional snake out on walks, but never in my own yard. Or heading towards my back door. Or slithering under the bar fridge right next to the back door! Hmmm, what to do now? Well … panic, of course.
I’d left the back door open but with the screen door shut. I had sudden visions of Mr Snake managing to squeeze through the gap at the bottom of it, as the local lizards always do. The thought of a snake in the house was terrifying! I ran back to the front door and let myself in, then dashed through to the back door and shut it tight, locking it for good measure – just in case the snake might stand up and grow hands, I suppose.
I tried ringing the local snake catchers, but neither answered. I would have to deal with this myself. (They were both out of town that day, I found out later.) I paced around the house trying to figure out what to do next. I was so relieved I’d left my dog, Tilly, in the house when I went out. If she had run ahead of me around the corner and tried to play with the snake … I started to panic more at the thought of what hadn’t happened. (Which doesn’t make a lot of sense, I know.)
Then I remembered the cat! Mr Tibbs was sound asleep in his day bed, the outdoor kennel, which was right near the bar fridge that now had a snake in residence. I had to save him! I went out the sliding door at the side, ran around to the back of the kennel and dragged it backwards across the concrete. I quickly scooped the cat out of the kennel, with him looking very disgruntled at having his snooze interrupted, then carried him back inside. I only realised in hindsight that I should have checked the kennel more thoroughly before I reached in, since the snake could have been cuddled up in the blankets too. When I put Mr Tibbs down in the house, he stalked away in annoyance and went to sulk under my bed. After I risked my life to save him! What an ingrate.
When I gathered up the courage to get a torch and look under the fridge – from a safe distance – and then check the rest of the outdoor area, it seemed the snake had departed, to who knows where. Probably under the house, I figured, before hopefully moving on to somewhere far, far away.
Seeing a snake so close to the house had really shaken me up. It was a slight over-reaction, but I’d felt under siege again, like with the bushfires, and – just like then – my way of coping was to spring into action. I had to do everything I could to keep myself and the animals safe. In this case, it meant reducing possible snake habitat by mowing, weeding, pruning and taking a trailer load to the tip. l sent a text message to my neighbours, who are also dog owners. They are not keen gardeners, but I had to smile when I heard their whipper-snipper start up approximately seven minutes after I sent the message. Nothing like the thought of lurking snakes to inspire a garden tidy-up! I started to relax a little, thinking that surely the noise and commotion caused by two households panicking and wielding noisy garden machinery would be an effective snake deterrent.
So I finished the day feeling exhausted, sweaty and dirty, but feeling the yard was a lot safer. I know now I have to be more snake-aware though, even while living in a non-bushy area, and check for slithery visitors before I let Tilly out.
I’ve since spoken to one the snake catchers, who told me there are snakes everywhere, constantly travelling around the place, but we just don’t usually see them. I’m not sure if that thought is reassuring or terrifying! At least now I know that a gentle sprinkle from the hose is an acceptable way to encourage a snake to move on to other pastures.
Honestly, this year has not been easy!
