Our BullSnake Is Dead

“Leigh!” my neighbor yelled over to me in his scratchy way. “I think I killed a rattlesnake.”

“We don’t have rattlesnakes here in our neighborhood,” I said and ran over to the killing field.

By this time, he had beheaded a still-squirming bull snake whose blood was poured onto his driveway, an individual who had been my protector for about five years—first in the front yard, then in the back, keeping mice consumed in my hens’ area. The ground squirrel also seemed to have found another home, perhaps in a snake’s belly. 

The neighbor's midtwenties-aged son was smiling greatly. I couldn’t believe it. Here lay my heroine, writhing in post-beheading pain.

“Oh, it’s okay,” the doctor said, “It’s head is off.”

Advice: Before you kill, be aware of who you are killing. Be judicious. A bull snake is not a viper, has a blunt snout, not a pointed viper nose, and uses Müllerian mimicry to feign his potency.

I’m devastated.