Snakes

SNAKES

 

            Snakes; nasty stinky little slithering creatures that God cursed to crawl on their bellies for the rest of their days. I am not sure why God punished us by keeping them around instead of sending them to the fiery pits of hell that they deserve but if he did, I wouldn’t have had so many fond memories of my dad dancing jigs and screaming every time he seen one. There are so many stories I can tell about our experiences with snakes but I have decided to tell a few now and save the rest for a running series of snake stories that I am sure that my dad is going to love! (Not really. He really does not like snakes.)

            Along with being scared of snakes, dad is also very jumpy or goosey as we call it. I have seen him back into branches that poke him in the leg and he will jump and squeal as if an 80 foot python has just latched ahold of him. This makes for fun times when he is working intently on something and we sneak up behind him and pinch the back of his leg and hiss. We think it is hilarious but should probably quit such acts so that we can still hang around with him.

            Several years ago me and my dad were fishing one of our favorite holes of water, trying to catch a few spring bass. The day was going pretty good, we had caught a few bass but for the most part we really didn’t care as long as we are on the river fishing and swopping fishing stories. We came up on a hollow log that was hanging out over the water and dad happened to notice that there was a possum tail dangling out of the end. Now, one thing about being a Reed is that we do things that are not always smart but you can guarantee that when we do these stupid things that there will always be a story for us to tell and others to laugh over. This was one of those times. I was running the motor on the boat and dad was sitting up front.

“Hey, ease the boat over by the end of that log. I am going to grab that sleepin’ possum’s tail and toss him out in the river!” Dad said giggling like a school girl.

“Oh man this is going to be funny.” I said giggling like the little school girl’s best friend.

I pulled up alongside the log and dad reached in to grab that sleeping possum and he froze. His legs start shaking like he was a dog pooping a peach pit and he started whispering something I couldn’t understand.

“Huh? Grab that ol’ possum and fling him in the river.” I said still laughing.

“Snake…” Dad said whispering again. “Back the boat up. Go forward. Go left or something. He’s lookin’ at me.”

“What? A snake?” I started laughing. “You want me to stay right here?”

“Boy!” Dad whispered loudly. “Get me away from this snake.”

“Fling him out into the river dad.” I said laughing.

Dad did not find the humor in his situation and I guess I shouldn’t have either cause it was a pretty big cottonmouth in there but I couldn’t help it.

            On the same hole of water on a different day dad got one of his favorite crank bait’s hung in an oak tree hanging over the water. It was full of green leaves and the hook was buried on a branch so I eased the boat up to the branches hanging over the water. Dad didn’t think it was funny when I plowed him right into the branches so that he could get his favorite lure out of the tree. It looked like the tree had eaten him; they wrapped their arms around him and tangled the line from his pole up.

“Dadgumit! What’s the matter with you?” Dad yelled. I laughed.

“Ahhh! Snake! Back up! Back up!” Dad shouted.

I started laughing and backed the boat up so dad could get out of the tree and noticed it was just a four foot green snake. Not poisonous. So I put the boat in gear again and we plowed back into the tree, which happened with enough force that the little snake fell down a few limbs and was right over his head.

“Ahhh! Back up! Back up dadgummit!” Dad shouted over my laughter but as I backed up dads line broke leaving his favorite lure hanging among the tree limbs with that green snake.

“Dad your lure is still in that tree. Here, let me ease you back up there so you can get it.” I said laughing.

“I am going to come back there and beat you with the boat paddle!” Dad shouted though he had started to laugh as well.

            The best snake story though has to be about my dad and my brother. For a couple of years there was a running prank between the two dealing with dead snakes. Dad doesn’t mind dead snakes, well as long as he is scaring someone else with them that is. Dad had shot a copperhead that was in the yard one day and went to pitch it into a brush pile when he realized that he could scare my brother with it. At the time he was living with my mom and dad and was working a late shift. So, dad laid the copperhead right under his driver side door so when his dome light hit it that night he would see it right between his legs. The plan worked perfectly, my brother screamed and almost peed his pants. But, what dad had not counted on was Steve using the dead snake against him.

            Steve took the snake back down to the house and coiled it up next to the front door in my mom’s flowers as if it was still alive and hiding. At the time dad still smoked and every morning he would step out on the front porch, stretch and look at the woods while he enjoyed his early morning cigarette. Well, while enjoying this smoke he happened to turn and notice a copperhead lying in the marigolds ready to strike. He ran into the house, grabbed his shotgun, ran back outside and blasted my mom’s flowers sending mud and rocks against the house and scaring the crap out of my mom. When dad told Steve about the snake he had killed right next to the house he couldn’t help but laugh and then told dad it was the same snake that he had gotten him with the night before.

            Episodes like this played on and on with the two until one day Steve was in a hurry and didn’t have time to set dad up with the snake that was coiled up on the top of Steve’s car so he just pitched it in the woods. Little did Steve know but that was the best place to put it. Dad lived in fear for three days while he tried to figure out where Steve had put the snake. Dad was convinced that it was in the house and mom swore that if it was in the house that both Steve and dad would be sleeping outside. Every time dad opened a cabinet he would do it slowly hoping that the dead snake would not shoot out at him. He searched his Jeep, looking under the seats and in the engine compartment and could never find it and finally said, “Okay, I can’t take it anymore. Where did you put that stupid snake?”

Steve started laughing, “Is that what’s wrong with you? Man, I threw that thing in the brush three days ago!” Dad didn’t believe him and figured it had to be somewhere around the house.

            Needless to say me and my brother have had our share of snake scares but those will be saved for another blog entry, for today we will just reminisce on the ones that scared dad.