A Funny Looking Stick

I should have known a snake would appear today. I've experienced a series of coincidences lately that have led to this moment. First, I mentioned to my sister-in-law over the weekend that I hadn't heard from my uncle lately. He had been a frequent caller since his brother died two years ago. However, it had been quite a few months since his last call. Then, lo and behold the next day he called. The first question out of his mouth was, "have you seen any snakes yet...?"

Whenever Pat's away, I become a bit anxious about letting the dogs run off leash. Although they have been vaccinated against snake venom and have received aversion training with live snakes, that doesn't ensure they won't encounter a snake. It only provides a probability boost toward surviving a bite. It's the encounter and the bite that give me the epizoodies.

I know that keeping them in the house and on a leash when outdoors dishonors their doggy spirit, but this is how it is until I'm able to allow life to flow as it should.

So this morning, I brave-up and let the girls go full tilt off leash. They rarely go far; in fact, they have a rather interesting routine they more or less follow each time. They both head straight for the barn where they sniff at the door hoping for an opportunity to have Puff kick their butts. When that opportunity proves disappointing, Luna scoots around the corrals searching out unsuspecting bunnies and giving chase until she's pooped. Cali stands over her favorite gopher hole waiting silently, patiently. Her sharp instincts tell her to avoid making a shadow over the hole, and she knows to stand behind the angled opening so as to remain invisible. When that game proves unfruitful, she trots gingerly to the nearest, freshest pile of manure where she rolls and wiggles with delight covering herself in the most wonderful aroma second only to fresh cow plop.

I stay nearby and watch with a careful eye while Luna becomes pooped and Cali becomes poop. Coming off the paved road, heading toward our house, a Fed Ex truck slows as he approaches. The dogs race to meet what they hope is there new best friend. With leashes in hand, I hook them both up while holding their eagerly wagging bodies at bay allowing the delivery guy to hand me a package. I sign for it, exchange a few pleasantry's then turn toward the house. "Oh", he says, "by the way, I think there's a snake on your driveway, or maybe it's just a funny looking stick."

I stop dead in my tracks, my heart pounding in my chest, my grip on the leashes tightening as I turn toward this jokester and respond, "Well which is it?"

"A snake, I think".

"Well, I appreciate you letting me know. I wonder, if he's still there when you drive out would you be willing to run him over?"

"Oh, sure, no problem".

"Thanks again, have a nice day."

I watched as he drove away. The truck slowed approximately 100 feet from where I stood. It swerved to the right, stopped, backed up, then moved forward again slowly before resuming its journey to the next stop.

With the location fixed in my mind, I returned the dogs to the house, grabbed the truck keys, and performed an act of kindness on the badly injured, dying, oh wait, did I mention huge? The badly injured, dying, huge, funny looking stick.