A couple of hours ago DH walked into my office looking decidedly paler than normal.
“Do I look green?” he asked.
“Very.” Well, I was only being honest.
“There’s a reason…” he paused for effect, “… I just saw a snake.”
Now that in my book is reason enough to make anyone green. Turns out the snake was relaxing in our pool filter, warming up near the newly installed solar heating. The little dear was black with a red belly. In short – a red bellied black snake. And yes, it is classified as a venomous snake.
(Photo taken by: Pavel German)
The good news is, it is not known to be lethal to adults. The bad news is, no research exists about children and bites from these snakes.
So how did hubby discover it? He was showing off the new solar heating system to his friend. (Must be a guy thing, because when my girl friends come and visit, we don’t take trips down to check out the pool filter.) Anyway, according to DH, one minute he was pointing out some pipe or another to his mate, and the next his mate was physically hauling him away from said filter. I’d have thanked his friend for saving my husband, but said friend beat such a hasty treat, the pool gate was still clanging into place behind him by the time he’d screeched up the road and around the corner as fast as his car would take him. (He’s requested a snake death certificate before he or his family will ever step foot back on our property. The wuss.)
So, back to the snake. Did you know red bellied black snakes are very interesting by virtue of the fact that they give birth to up to 40 LIVE young at a time? Charming fact. We phoned wild life rescue services immediately. Yes, I am a mother. No, the idea of rearing 40 wee snakelets does not make me clucky or broody in any manner or form.
Peter from Wildlife Services arrived shortly thereafter. He even managed to see the snake – 5 seconds before it disappeared through a hole beneath the filter. In that short time, Peter established the snake was only about 1 meter long, and therefore not of snake bearing age. Thank heavens! We haven’t seen it since. We tried to flood it out. We tried to be dead quiet and lure it out. My 6 year old even tried to charm it out with the didgeridoo. Turns out the six year old is pretty good at the didgeridoo – but snakes don’t have ears. (Otherwise I’m sure that would have done the trick. :-D)
So we did the only thing we could. We sealed up the hole. Peter seems certain there is another hole somewhere that the snake can crawl out of. One that leads into the reserve backing onto onto our property. I hope he’s right. As much as I don’t like the idea of a venomous snake sharing our pool area, I don’t like him being trapped under there either. Poor thing.
Now I pose the question to you: Anyone feel like coming over for a swim?
Jess
OMG Jess, we’ve had a funnel-web in the pool but never a snake. Bloody country, always trying to kill you.
We lived in a bushy cottage down in Hornsby many years ago, the reserve behind us was called Snake Gully by the locals, which should raised one of those little red flags, but didn’t until we came acorss mummy black snake and her seven babies all living in our outside laundry.
Mummy black snake popped in next door for a visit and was removed from their lounge by the local fire-fighters (our local firies are all trained in snake handling – bless them).
And my first husband heroically got drunk, captured the babies one by one in tupperware containers and we released them far away from houses in nearby Galston Gorge. Then we found out the babies can be more poisionous than the parents because the venom is more concentrated.
Great!
Holy moly, Cait.
And I thought our experience was hair raising.
Glad you are still around to tell the tale. Aren’t those babies sweet? NOT!
A funnel web? *Shiver* They scare the bejeepers out of me. More so than snakes. We’ve had a red back here, which wasn’t fun. Fortunately, funnel webs prefer the North to the East. *shew*
Jess
Ahh, you imports you. Always stressing about our wildlife. My parents find them in their yard all the time – actually Dad found a brown snake in the front yard when I was there at Christmas. He did what he usually does – chopped off it’s head with a shovel. Don’t tell the rangers, you’re supposed to let them live. But this was Christmas day, what are you going to do? Call the ranger away from his chicken dinner? Or there was the time my Dad recruited hubby, who’s not nearly as snake blase, to help him get a carpet snake out of the chook pen in the middle of the night because it was steadily devouring the Mum’s Bantams. Hubby was not impressed, but they managed to move the snake to greener pastures. Next day, he was back, so Dad decided to let him stay (the snake, not hubby). I still run into him occasionally – he hangs over the side of the house sometimes, hiding in the bushes, peeking at me (the carpet snake, not my Dad. That would be creepy).
But don’t let me anywhere near a spider. Huntsmen are the worst, those big hairy ones that crawl out of their hidey holes in your car engine and scramble up your windscreen while you’re driving along a dark country road at night. Shudder.
You’re scared of Huntsmans? I take them outside on a weekly basis. They LOVE our house.
LOL. Sami, what hilarious stories. (Except perhaps for the poor headless brown snake.)
Both you and Cait have made me feel a lot better about this snake thing. Obviously its not just the “Dee” household being targeted.
It’s the Australian Samhellions in general. Think we should view these snakes as being symbolic of something?
Hmm, what could we, as romance writers, equate a snake with? Hmm…thinking, thinking…
😉
Jess
Chocolate? Minties? er… Can’t think of a thing.
Cait!
As usual Jess, you’re incorrigible.