Monday, October 4, 2010


So, I was taking out the trash, rocked the wheels back and forth on the blue recycle bin, and as I pulled it away from the fence, I saw THREE COILED UP RATTLESNAKES!! My hands have just now stopped shaking enough to permit me to type. I called animal control emergency, and was cheerily greeted by a taped message that "all representatives are assisting other callers and my call would be answered in the order it was received." Oh REALLY? Who else has THREE RATTLESNAKES underfoot?! I finally gave up, and prefaced my call to 911 that I wasn't sure if this was a classic emergency but I didn't know who else to call. (Come on, it's not like I was complaining that my chicken McNuggets were cold...) The operator was most gracious, took my info and patched me right through to the fire department--Oh, Phew! Thank Goodness! I even spared a thought about running inside to brush my hair--but, alas. It was not to be. Firemen don't do snake removal. WHO ON GOD'S GREEN EARTH DOES? I have two kids, a little dog, a cat, and a husband--who doesn't take out the trash. Fortunately, my cries for help were heard, apparently far and wide! My heroes include a landscape guy, two dads, a real estate agent who happened to be in the neighborhood, and a young man walking his dogs. These superheroes were valiant in their efforts, brave beyond belief, fearless--albeit foolhardy. And they also looked like they were having a TON of fun. What the? Armed with nothing more than shovels and TesTosTerone, they kept trying to show me the fruits of their labor...the dripping, bloody, headless, squirming fruits. To their credit, they even offered me a RATTLE. I declined, thanking them ever so much!!

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