The Snake On My Gate

I live in Africa. I have an irrational fear of snakes. Or as my Canadian cousin says- I am bat-shit, crazy-scared of them.

The two do not go well together..

My phobia started at birth. No kidding. My mom had an encounter with a Boomslang (a highly venomous snake) just before she went into labour with me. It had begun.

At age 6 — my cat decided to leave me the present of another extremely venomous and very aggresive cobra under my bed. The cat forgot to kill it first!

I survived- my dreams did not. Needless to say — for years, my family took it in turns to attend to the nightly ritual of checking under my bed , and checking inside the covers, before I would even consider going to sleep. So maybe my fear is not that irrational considering!

Perhaps I’m ultra sensitive to their whereabouts or perhaps they sense the fear; I’ve had a few encounters and I’m not a fan.

The fear :

It’s hard to explain the fear. All I know is that sweat instantly pours from every pore in my body. My heart starts pounding. My screaming voice comes out as a croak. I have been known to vault clear over a wall . I do this weird clawing thing with my hands. My knees, if I run, are higher than my nose. That is, if I am not frozen like a giant popsicle.

So begins my relationship with this snake. MR SNEAKY SNAKE-EYES. He or she (I haven’t cared to find out) started hanging around the hedge as a baby. It is a bush/green snake and as such is considered harmless and common. All well and good.

Let me say this:

IT HAS AN ENTIRE NATURE RESERVE NEXT TO OUR HOUSE TO DO HIS SNAKY BUSINESS IN! IT IS ENTIRELY UNNECESSARY FOR HIM TO HANG OUT ON OUR GATE.

My first encounter was when I picked up the hosepipe to water the garden. Only it was lying camouflaged on it! It slipped through my fingers and down the drain. Holy shitting hell!!!

The next time he was happily sun bathing on top of the nicely trimmed hedge getting his suntan on. All he needed was a pair of sunglasses and a cocktail.

Then I came home and came face to face with him wrapped around my gate. As I put my hand out to open the gate, there he was looking at me with his beady little eyes and sort of grinning.

I backed away slowly, sprouting drops of fear-induced perspiration like a sprinkler. Got back into my car, drove to my friend’s house, where I waited until my husband got home.

Mr Sneaky snake-eyes was long gone. The great search began. To no avail. He only had eyes for me….

So the coming home ritual began. Everyday, I got home. I would take a large plank of wood from my car and begin to smack the wood on the tar driveway. Then I would smash the hell out of the gate with it. I would then begin the talk.

The talk:

It’s more frightened of you. It’s smaller than you. It’s harmless. It may bite you but at least you won’t die!

Then I would charge through the gate like a bat out of hell, doing my crazy knee-high, star- jump, crab walk.

Wielding my barbecue tongs(they are giant size and very long) I would fish out the letters from the post box. Yes! He has hidden in there before.

The neighbours? Well they think I’m weirdly eccentric anyway. It has something to do with me doing the house work, while playing Led Zepplin and Black Sabbath at full volume. What can I say, it brings back my wild youth.

So the sight of me smacking the gate and hedge and using tongs for the post? Well, a wide berth is what they gave me; let’s leave it at that!

A while ago, a yellow-billed kite snatched him in it’s talons. It must have wriggled so much that the bird dropped him on the roof. There we were sitting and the bloody snake falls off the roof. Snakes on a plane?? Meh! Try snakes raining off a roof!

My husband tried chasing after him. Not a chance. Mr Sneaky slithered off to his hedge. I haven’t seen him for a while.

Will he be back?

He only has eyes for me…..

*picture taken from The Wildlife of Southern Africa. Edited by Vincent Carruthers.