MindSpinner

Eastern Hognose snakes turn out to be, in fact, an endangered species. I’m still letting that sink in.

I’m not keen on slaying a member of an endangered species with my hoe or my machete when I find him lolling about in a bed of pepperment and thyme, even if he lacks fur and legs to which I am irrationally partial. (I’m not being sexist about the gender of my snake, by the way, only hopeful, since male snakes don’t lay eggs.)

Maybe I’ll get more used to Hognose if I give him a name. If I call him Mr. Horatio Hognose, for instance, would that help me keep his person in perspective when next we meet? On the other hand, I like the simple name “Wrinkle.” I’ll decide his name when or if I come to have a better look at him. Likely after I scream.

Crocodile Dundee assured me that I’d run less risk of attracting snakes if I removed the “cover” in my yard. The cover of which he speaks is, of course, my garden, and I am not removing it in order to discourage an unwelcome guest. Habitat I have created; inhabitants I will have. Only one option remains. I’m going to have to make my peace with Mr. Horatio Hognose and with the idea of him and his ilk being about. I already knew we had snakes back in the woods; the difference is that now I know this one traversed my garden in order to slip under the deck and into the dogs’ pen. So I have to be prepared to meet him when I’m digging up the carrots or pulling up the grass that’s working its way into the lavender border.

I’m just not sure that looking at six pages of Googled images of Eastern Hognose snakes is sufficient conditioning ;->.