Invasion!!!

If I were to post a photo for this entry--unfortunately, I had no camera--I don't know if it would be of Baker, Riley & Tara standing on top of the kitchen counter, of me wielding BBQ tongs like a Samurai, of the racoon just feet from our porch door, or of the culprit who really caused the excitement...

Chess is an utterly absorbing game. Last night, about 8 p.m., found Baker and I in a tight duel (which he ultimately won...), with Riley intently watching and suggesting moves to her hapless father. Tae was fast asleep in bed after a full day of swimming and playing with newfound friends. Tara was in bed, awake, reading or facebooking.

Our backyard, while well mowed, is surrounded by "dry rainforest." Have not quite figured out what that means...similar to "Super Mini" I guess. (Referenced in an earlier blog). And inside that dry rainforest is a wealth of critters. You, faithful reader, have heard about Peter the Pizote and the iguana, who we have discovered actually lives upon our roof. There are howler monkeys, that we hear nearly everyday though do not so often see in our backyard. There are stray dogs, including Henrietta who we first met in our kitchen, when she roamed in and plopped down for a rest on a hot day at the kids' feet.

And there is a racoon as well. While back in the States and Canada, I have rarely seen a racoon during the day, here one little guy is a regular visitor. He (or she...haven't looked that closely) seems to get a bit braver each day. First his visits were limited to the grassy part of the yard and then he ventured on to the deck beside the pool. The other day, he came within feet of our open back doors, resting himself under the shade of a lounge chair. And, Tara tells me, this weekend he actually entered the house. He ran away quickly when Tara clapped loudly at him.

And so it was, with these experiences under our belt, that Baker and Riley and I found ourselves absorbed in the chess match last night. Baker had me in a particularly tough spot--one of my bishops was going to die for sure, it was just a matter of which one. While I was puzzling over this, facing away from our back door, Baker who was facing towards the back door, said, "Dad! Raccoon!"

I quickly jumped up, spun around and...stopped dead in my tracks. There on the living room floor in front of me, about 4 feet away, was a snake.

Now, he was not a King Cobra with that hooded head. Nor was he a rattler. Nor was he particularly enormous. BUT he was not a common black snake or garter snake. He was not a snake that I could immediately identify as either venomous or not. He was a full three feet long. His head was up off the ground staring at me. And he was, as I said, in my living room!

And, did I mention, snakes scare the heck out of me. Give me a spider any day. Or a plane to jump out of. Or a roller coaster to ride. Or something funky to eat or drink. I'll take it. I'd rather pass on a snake.

My first reaction therefore was, in a parrot of Baker, to say "Tara! Snake!"

My very brave wife rushed out of the bedroom, took one look at the snake and jumped on the kitchen counter, feet first. Baker and Riley soon followed and I found myself, Harry Potter-like, alone with the serpent.

I moved to the kitchen and found a pair of BBQ tongs (and a BBQ fork and flipper, for good measure) and approached the beast. He was four or five feet from the sliding door that leads outside, just about centered at the door. My first plan was to use the tongs to actually pick him up, below his head so that he could not get around to bite me. As I got closer to him, and he continued to unblinkingly stare me down, that idea seemed a bit too bold.

Instead, I banged the tongs and the flipper loudly on the floor in front of him. At first, he did not react, but after a few bangings he moved--and quickly! My fear suddenly became that I would not scare him out the door but rather would scare him under a table or chair, where he would simply lie in wait, holding off his attack until my precious family and I were asleep.

So, I skedaddled around to the edge of the door towards which he was moving and banged the floor in front of him, sending him retreating thankfully for the center of the door. A few more bangs and he was outside. I slid the doors shut and looked out through their glass panels.

He was resting right up against the door. He was a very thin snake and I noticed that below one portion of our door, there was about a one inch gap between floor and door bottom. It was against this portion of the door that the snake was resting. I got down on hands and knees and soon saw that he was reattempting an entry, or so it appeared--I cannot be entirely sure of his intentions. I poked and prodded him with my tongs and soon enough he slid away.

Tara, Baker and Riley climbed down from the kitchen counter and, lo and behold, I was a hero of sorts! It is not often that today's modern dad, with all the comforts and safety of home, gets to defend his family from a wild animal that is threatening the entire family (or that is imagined to be threatening the family by some overly active imaginations.) It was a fun and exciting moment. (Ended all too soon by me losing my bishop, and shortly thereafter the game to Baker.)

Unfortunately, we did not have a camera handy so there are no images to support this story. Readers of the Life of Pi may question whether it is really true (but isn't it always better to accept the interesting story?) I do not know the type of snake. A woman at the kids' school this morning suggested that it might have been, gasp!, a young boa constrictor! I google imaged boa constrictors and found this image of young boas and, indeed, he did look a bit like this. I can't confirm it was a boa, but it might have been.

Stay tune, readers, for our next adventure...

Pura Vida!