Well, it finally happened. I killed a snake. Yes, me, the one who usually screams at the sight. I've come a long way since that first snake I found out in the chicken coop four years ago. I won't blame you if you've forgotten, so you can read about it here and here. Lots of snakes have been killed since then, but not by me.
As I was locking up the chickens the other evening, something caught my attention from the corner of my eye. At first I thought it was a tree branch, but then as I got closer realized it was a snake.
I quietly came back in the house and calmly summoned Son for backup. Notice how much I've improved already? Quiet and calm. No running, no shrieking, no shouting.
But when we got back to the coop, the snake was gone. Since the light was fading, it was hard to see in the shadows. And just as we were going to give up and go back inside, I saw the snake, right at my feet!
With hoe in hand, and Son watching on the ready to rescue, I began my attack. I was very calm and deliberate, but also not a very accurate swing. Plus, who knew how thick snake skin is? Either that or my hoe needs a good sharpening.
Once Son was satisfied it was dead, he returned to the house. I wasn't fully convinced until the head was clearly detached. It took me about ten good whacks. But I did it.