26 June 2008

My landlord came up this evening, with a contraption that had one of those handles that when you squeeze it, it triggers a mechanism which allows the pincers on the other end to close.  Folks use them to pick up trash.  Or snakes, apparently.

As I described and re-enacted the snake scene from last night (that was quite amusing, cuz I really did screech ohdamnohdamnohdamn omigawd whathefuck, as I jumped into the bathroom from the hallway).  My landlord stared at me in astonishment, yet again amazed that he has me for a tenant.  Then he looked under the chair sitting at the end of the hall, he poked and probed with the stick and shown the flashlight, in a manly man way.

Then he quickly threw open the back bedroom door, simultaneously flipping on the light, and jumping into the room.  I guess he was hoping for a sneak attack.  I'm pretty sure that if there was a snake's den back there, they all cleared out when I was re-enacting the scene from last night.

"ya know them snakes can be real crafty about sneaking into small spaces," he said reassuringly (?!?).  "Oh yes," I replied, "but hopefully, he ate the mouse that's been getting bold with my toilet paper."  "hm," he muttered absentmindedly, then did a double take, "what?"

So then I told him about the rather bold mouse that was chowing down on the hard plastic bakery box last week.  Mr. Mouse was so busy going to town, so pre-occupied that he completely missed the fact that I had approached the counter and switched the stove light on.  I could have reached out and plucked him up, had I wanted to.  Which I didn't.  I mean, free range mice are carriers of all sorts of vermin. 

But boy, you shoulda seen him jump when I flicked on the light.  Scared the shit right outta him, I did.  In a trail of pellets across the kitchen counter.

"So," my landlord asks nonchalantly, "is that where the toilet paper came into play?"

"Good one, but no.  The toilet paper has apparently been providing a nice nesting material for him.  I've not seen the nest.  But I've have seen some shredded toilet paper rolls under the sink in the bathroom.  Ya know, where I keep the toilet paper.  In the bathroom."  Looking at him oddly.

Quickly, he resumes his snake tales, "ya know, the snake in not poisonous {actually, I'm thinking, it's not venomous}cuz if it is as long as you say {peering at me sharply} then it isn't.  Those snakes are fat, but short."  {Oddly, I remembered Goldie Hawn's character's line in Overboard, "I was fat, and short?"}

I did not feel much better after he'd gone.  This is not thru any fault of his.  It's just, ya know, snakes are crafty.  And I do live in the middle of a hay field, which they have just mown today for the first cut of the summer.  They'll be baling it up over the next few days.  All sorts of critters' homes were disturbed, so I'm sure I have many visitors.

As long as the snake just slithers in stealthily and eats all those varmints, and then just as sneakily slips on out, I'll be just fine.  And he can stay in the back ground all he wants.  Just not the back bedroom, cuz dude, that's a little too familiar.


  1. Yes, a little too familiar is right on target.  Eeeuuuwwww.

  2. I lived in an old farm house once and walked in the bathroom to find a 12 foot black snake curled in the sink (head), coilded on toilet seat, and tail in the tub.
    It saw me and quickly disappeared under a loose tile in behind the toilet.
    I called the land lord and she came over with a tool box.  She asked which tile he went under (it was actually linoleum).  I showed her and she then took out a piece of 2x4 and nailed it over the loose tile.  "He won't be coming out of there anymore," she said.  
    Marie came home and wanted to know why we had a board nailed to the floor behind the toilet.  "Don't ask, I said."

  3. snakes do mot like bleach or moth balls or human hair.  Tidbits I thought you might like to know.  Anne

  4. Just the smell of a cat will keep mice away.  Some nice cat hair curtains you could knit perhaps?  Snakes are usedul animals but they are startling to encounter



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