by Alan B. Combs

As Jim Ryan attests, sometimes the more interesting stories really do
happen. I have added my toxicology students to this mailing, and the
article about snakes is, hereby, promoted from enrichment to required.

Tuesday everning, 10:30 PM, Kyle, Texas.

I went out about an hour ago to drop bills into the mailbox. There
was a very suspicious-looking, small snake on the walkway on my front
porch. I got a plastic box and trapped him.

My sister-in-law Miriam was here and I asked her to help me check it
out. If it was harmless, I would release it to go eat more field
mice. It would take about three hands to do this. One to lift the
box, one to pin the snake down with something, and one to kill it, if
necessary. She said, “Not today, and not tomorrow.” Ofelia was at
work, and it was her suggestion to get the neighbor to help.

I got out a long paint roller tool, a shovel, and a really good
flashlight. The neighbor was willing to help me check it out — he
has an outdoor dog and an indoor child.

We pulled the box off, and he pinned it down with the roller. Yep,
there it was. Broad, spade shaped head, two pits, and one button on the other
end. A perfect baby diamondback. On my front porch just outside the
door. Damn.

Well, life in the boondocks of Kyle has never ceased to be an adventure.

I sent a message about this latest war story to my relatives last night.

David said that’s why he lives in the big city, and sister Susan said
that she hoped that I wasn’t too rattled by it all.