![]() A little levity for our Thursday. Have I mentioned recently about the snake in my house? I’ll come back to it. Like many people who grew up in the suburbs, I enjoyed wildlife from a distance. Critters are for zoos or state parks. That thinking changed when I moved to the woods of northern Michigan and began seeing God’s creatures up close and personal. Deer, opossums, raccoons, and their buddies were becoming part of the scenery. Still, at a distance.
At the former Just Wright Citrus World Headquarters on the shores of Big Lake Henderson, wildlife became my closest companion. We began to interact in the same areas. Back then I had Friendly, my indoor-outdoor cat. I set up the screens so that Friendly could come and go as she pleased. I often heard Friendly arriving home before dawn from a fun night on the town or whatever it is she did out and about. My more weathered friends would caution me about that. “You might get raccoons,” they said to me. Yeah, right. One night I was in the bedroom watching TV with Friendly. We both heard something eating her food in the kitchen. Friendly shot me an alarming look. We stared at one another as “chomp, chomp, chomp” resonated in the other room. After a few minutes, I peeked out to see raccoon paw prints all around the food and water dish, and no cat food. So, we had a problem on our hands. Don’t tell the game commission, but I went to Lowe’s and bought a trap. I placed it on the back porch and baited it with cat food. Next day, there’s an embarrassed raccoon in the crate. I placed the trap in my trunk and drove out to the state forest, where the raccoon scampered off as soon as I lifted the gate. I did this for six straight nights. Caught an entire extended family of raccoons. One was asleep in the morning. Another created such a racket that it shook the crate off the porch. That was as close as I’d ever hoped to get to wildlife. Until the snake showed up. As is often the case, it started very innocently. Parked my car in the garage and was about to empty the trunk of groceries, when this little fella strolled (?) from the driveway. I should have sent him back to the great outdoors but thought, stupidly, it’s in the garage. He’ll find his way out. Nope. Next day, I discovered my new friend in the bathroom closet. I grabbed a 4-iron (best snake club in the bag) and thus began a week-long standoff. I can hear all the rednecks: Just pick up the dang thing and toss it out the door! In my next lifetime, I’ll toss snakes out the door. In this lifetime, I’ll carry a 4-iron to bed. I told a few people this story. They wanted to know what kind of snake it was. That’s like asking how big the alligators are in the lake. They’re all 12 feet to me. This snake (sorry, no selfie) was probably innocent as the morning dew, but he had that killer viper look. I mean…it’s a snake. We’re not there to negotiate. I also didn’t want to kill it. I realize that makes me a bleeding-heart snake protector, but tough. Here's what I learned about a snake in the house: It just shows up. Then it just disappears. It’s not like I see it slithering along the floor. Nope. It’s just there. I’d sneak away to grab the club, then return 20 seconds later and the snake is gone again. After a few days of this cat-and-snake routine, I’d had enough. I saw it one night and chased it through the house (there’s a vision you can’t erase) until it slithered into an air vent. The matter came to a head Tuesday night. Walked out into the dining room and there it was on the floor, looking around for a snack or whatever it is that interests snakes. I flanked to the rear, grabbed the trusty 4-iron, opened the porch door, and took my position. Attack time. Hard to describe what happened next. Let’s just say there was some flinging going on and a freaked-out snake trying to figure out what’s up. Last we saw each other, it was hurled end-over-end toward the lake. I hope it’s happy. I know I am. The World Headquarters have peace once again. My lesson: Keep the 4-iron handy. Have a pest-free day, friends. Join the discussion on our Facebook page. Enjoying the blog? Please consider supporting it at Venmo, PayPal, or Patreon. Comments are closed.
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AuthorMike Wright has written about Citrus County government and politics for 36 years. Archives
February 2025
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