Birdie spotted a snake in her yard today. It was just a small brown garden snake that was lying peacefully in the grass alongside Hop-Across Creek, which is what she has chosen to call the small irrigation ditch that runs the length of her property. A murderous thought flashed across her consciousness, but the little snake hadn’t caused her to shriek, which is the main and simple thing she asks of the slithering, scaly residents.
She has never seen more than two snakes at the same time in the same spot, and refers to them all as Floyd and Farley, and has agreed with herself that she won’t think about there being more than two. “I can live and let live with just two,” reasons Birdie. As long as they follow the rule: DO NOT STARTLE BIRDIE! She made chopped meat of the last one that startled her. Floyd surprised her by being not at all where she was accustomed to seeing him, and hoe in hand, her adrenalin took over and put an end to Floyd’s bug-eating life. It was like the shower scene in Psycho. When Birdie hears the word OVERKILL, she thinks of minced Floyd.
Birdie walked away from Farley today without doing him any harm because she is squeamish about turning something that is alive into something that is dead. Except for mosquitoes and flies. Birdie recently bought a tennis racquet-looking battery operated gizmo that she uses to swat bothersome flying insects. It makes a satisfying sizzle when a mosquito or fly meets his demise. Birdie can’t get enough of that.
However, when it comes to Floyd and Farley, Birdie tries to follow one of the lessons she’s gleaned from Eve’s encounter. “Never get close enough to a snake to hear what it has to say.”