Snakes without ladders

Our neighbour Fleur knocks on our door trembling and I go to jelly. Her brother has been gravely ill, I fear the worst.

She holds up her phone and cries “Sssnake!”

We examine the picture and agree that it is indeed a snake in the bottom of her garden water feature. Pulling on a pair of sturdy gardening gloves, the three of us tromp off to assess the situation.

Thankfully, the snake isn’t moving and with hunks of skin hanging off appears to be long dead, we’re assuming that it found its way into the pond but couldn’t get back out.

Naturally, I choose to stay well back and record the action while Woody and Fleur dispatch the reptile into a bag and off to the garbage.

We all breathe a sigh of relief.

Doing my job, I send a pic to a non-retired neighbour who replies with “Silly bloody pensioners playing with snakes!”

Word gets around and another neighbour knocks on the door asking about the Tiger snake we’ve found and telling us that his wife has demanded he clean up the backyard before the grandkids get bitten.

In the meantime, Fleur asks her son why he wasn’t concerned about the snake she found in the garden. “Oh Mum” he says “Don’t you remember putting a rubber snake out there to keep the birds away?”

I’m wondering if we can get a group discount at Specsavers?

6 thoughts on “Snakes without ladders

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