There's been two tiger snakes hanging around the house recently. I throw things at them sometimes, trying to persuade them that this is a terrible place to hang out. Like raw prawns left under the couch cushions, they've become rather unwelcome guests.who will.not.leave.
'It's mating season,' a friend informed me. 'So you've got to get rid of one to lose the other one.'
'Agh!' I squeaked. 'So now they are gonna have lots of tiny tiger babies on my veranda too?'
'That's what your baby kookaburras are for,' he grinned.
A clutch of kookaburra chicks have been hanging around here too. The normal dusk chorus of the laughing birds is instead a series of desperate squawks as these fluffy boofheads try to emulate their millennial ancestors, like preschoolers forced to play Twinkle Twinkle Little Star on the recorder. Kookaburras are voracious carnivorous ferals in Western Australia. Just seeing them beat a native fairy wren to death against a log incites a unique kind of sandgroper eco-fascism. But they are really bloody good at killing tiger snake hatchlings. I saw a kookaburra perched on the shed a few years ago, watching the ground intently and ambushing a nest of baby tigers. All day long. Bang.Bang.Bang.
Tonight, Selkie was trotting back from her evening beach visit, grinning, tongue lolling. As she passed the chopping block with its axe handle perched atop like a dancer's leg, she leapt sideways and I saw a black hose streak towards her and then retreat, like one of those slinky toys. 'Selks! Selkie!' I yelled at her and she ran to me, still grinning. She rubbed her head against my jeans and I patted her flank. My heart was racing. It felt hard to breathe. I checked her feet, her legs and couldn't find any bite marks. The snake curled itself back into the wood heap.
I'm watching her closely tonight and she seems okay. But bloody hell, I just want these mum and dad snakes gone, let alone their little hell-babies.
Here is a photo I took from the tower on Wednesday. It was the storm that sent me scuttling down the mountain. Lightning was forking all around this system and the steel ladders on the way down were not terribly inviting. Re my previous post 'It was lightning dickhead', it's the same storm that started the bushfire out near my place.
Isn't there some way to kill the snakes you find hanging around your property? I'm not one for killing a snake just because it's a snake, but dangerous varieties hanging out near my house would find no mercy. In your situation I'd be absolutely terrified. You're a braver woman than me!
ReplyDeleteI get terrified just reading this Sarah.
ReplyDeleteI'm with Rachel.
ReplyDeleteJennifer, short of getting within striking distance, I just don't know. I've tried squirting petrol near them and throwing shovels at them. They just don't seem to get the message! Feeling a bit under siege atm. And no, not brave - absolutely bald naked jittery. Having a bushfire near my place and ash falling around the house is adding to my summer of discontent.
ReplyDeleteRachel and Tom, sorry to traumatise you but I'm feeling a bit at odds too. Unfortunately all the snake handlers are out on the fire front.
Great firepower pic and story, blimmin snakes eh
ReplyDeleteSorry not anon but Ann on lawlessness
ReplyDelete