No, I'm not speaking of some man who erred, forgot your birthday, or attempted to give you a drill set for your anniversary. Not that sort of snake, and not the figurative dog house. No, I'm speaking of a slithery slow moving cold blooded snake who as taken up residence in the MSU engineered, designed, and architecture built dog house with carpeting and slotted walls to allow for extra ventilation with the shingled roof sitting in my yard.
Every year, the architecture department's grad students must design and build dog houses, which are then auctioned off with the proceeds going to the local humane society and animal shelter. A few years back, I came home to find one sitting in front of my gate. It turns out that one lady who bid rather aggressively for this particular dog house that jack built didn't actually have need for one as she didn't have a dog. But she had been friends with my landlord's parents, who are very active with the animal shelter and humane society, and knew that my Shaddow didn't have her very own home where she could go when she wanted to escape my home and have her own space. I digress.
This morning, I glanced out in my yard and did a double take. Curled up along the one inside wall of the dog house was a lump of something that was sluggishly uncurling itself and rearranging coils and curls like a vain sorority girl. My brain s.s.s.s.s.tuttered and my eyes fluttered a few times while my mouth dried up and my heart sped up and my mind expanded and then shrunk into a lil critter trying to scurry and find safe haven.
The dogs did not seem at all concerned about their guest. For all I know, they might have gotten it drunk on eggnog and decided to let it sleep off its hangover. Come to think of it, that may have been what happened to the quart in the fridge.
Cuz I know I didn't drink it.