This summer's temperatures have not been unbearable, perhaps a little below normal. But with a rather high humidity at times, some sultry days become virtually too miserable to enjoy.
Some chores must be completed, though, so I recently decided to rid our property of a couple truckloads of brush.
Cutting several tree limbs from above the roof covering our dog pens and a maze of privet, I loaded the bed of my truck in no time. I unloaded at the compost facility and headed home, only to find another heaping load waiting. I headed to the opposite side of our house after wrapping up my project, my wife having recently cut and piled a large shrub.
Grabbing the limbs by the armload, I pitched them atop the brush already loaded in the truck. Grabbing a rope from the cab, I secured it to the bed rail and pitched it to the other side. Wrapping the rope around the opposing rail, I pulled it tight and began tying a knot.
Just about the time I had the knot secured, I noticed a slight movement. What in the world? I couldn't believe it. A large snake was among the limbs, one I evidently scooped up while grabbing the brush my wife piled.
Taking closer look, I actually recognized the snake, a beautiful garter I had encountered several times in the past four or five years. To be honest, I had become somewhat attached to her.
Turns out our rat terrier, Charlie, had a love/hate relationship with this snake. He would sniff it out on a regular basis. The snake would usually flee but would coil every now and then. And when it took a more defensive posture, the show was on.
Charlie would bark relentlessly, lunging forward and immediately bouncing back to a safe perspective. It was more of a game than anything else, Charlie never trying to hurt the snake, as far as I know, and the snake showing no aggression.
Seeing no need to dispose of, or relocate, the harmless reptile, especially not at a location where it would likely be killed, I ran my hand in the brush pile and tried to grab her.
But I couldn't get a hand on her before she took refuge in the very bottom of the pile. I had no intentions of unloading my truck until reaching my destination. So, she could ride with me to the compost facility, where I would simply catch her while unloading the truck and bring her home.
Backing up to the huge pile, I methodically unloaded the brush one limb at a time. I pondered that she might have crawled to the top of the brush and bailed from the truck while I was traveling down the road. But I finally noticed her as the bed emptied.
I reached down and quickly grabbed the snake. But then it hit me. I had nothing in the truck that would suffice as an enclosure. And I certainly would not allow her loose in the cab, experience having taught me that it is practically impossible to unwind a snake from the seat springs.
But I was also aware that snakes are coldblooded creatures and have no means of regulating their body temperature. In turn, she could literally overheat and die because of the sun beaming into the truck bed.
I thus grabbed and covered her with a heaping handful of leaves before heading home. Of course, I drove as close to the shoulder as possible to ensure she benefited from the shade of nearby trees, and I sure didn't tarry through areas that had no protection from the sun. I was elated to see an angry, yet healthy snake upon my arrival at the house. And upon releasing her I smiled and quietly said, "I'm glad you're home."
Sports on 07/23/2017