Birthday Suit Pressed into Service in Dangerous Night Mission

Guest Blog by Kevin (first written 5 years ago)

rattlesnake


My wife woke me up in the wee hours (as has happened at the start of
several other stories.) Being the “man of the house” has certain duties
attached to the title. One of which is to investigate all thumps, bumps,
bangs, whatever the dog is growling or barking at, and all other middle of
the night goings on. This duty is, of course, at the direction of the
“woman of the house.”

Anyway, the dog was indeed growling at something
and I got up to investigate. I was wearing my usual outfit for this type
of adventure. The outfit is getting somewhat worn as I approach 40.
However, my birthday suit still fits. So, with Maglite in
hand, I set off through the house.

I made it about halfway to the front door when I noticed that the dog was
not doing the usual thing of rushing to the door barking like mad. I
turned to see what the dog was up to and was interested to note that it was
pointing back into our bedroom and growling. As I started back to
investigate, the “woman of the house” started screaming that there was a
snake in the bedroom. Now, my wife is a properly raised country girl and,
as such, does not get excited about your garden-variety snake. At this
point my ears, which are not in as good a shape as my birthday suit,
finally detected the telltale buzz of a rattlesnake. My trusty Maglite
quickly illuminated the scene. A moderately sizeable rattlesnake was
coiled under the dresser next to the bed. My wife, in her excitement, had
managed to wake our new son. The bedroom was now a fairly lively place
with the snake buzzing, dog barking, the baby crying, and my wife excitedly
encouraging me to do my “manly duty” and remove our uninvited guest from
the bedroom with extreme prejudice.

Lacking a weapon of suitable length (birthday suits are susceptible to
puncturing) and being reluctant to discharge a firearm in the house, I
encouraged my wife to stay on the bed while I went to get a shovel or
whatever else was handy. I returned to the scene armed with a walking
stick. I did however make a happy discovery along the way. For
unknown reasons I had taken my boots off in the living room that
evening. Since I was, in my opinion, insufficiently stylishly attired for
the occasion, I stepped into my boots. Feeling confident that I was
dressed for the occasion, in cowboy boots and birthday suit, I
proceeded back to the bedroom stick in hand.

When I arrived back in the bedroom, I handed my wife the Maglite and
requested that she shine the light not on me but on the snake. Now, the
snake was still under the dresser, which has a horizontal crossbar between
the legs. This prevented me from getting a good swing at it. So I decided
that the proper method of attack was to attempt to crush it against the
floor or wall by stabbing it with the end of the stick. Warning my wife, I
made my first attack at its head. It was a very warm night and the snake
was able to partially dodge my thrust. I had pinned it to the wall by the
tail.

The snake was somewhat upset that I had wounded it in this fashion,
and proceeded to strike at my stick, the dresser crossbar, etc. I then
made another try for its head. Alas, this too was only partially
successful. I had again pinned it to the wall but this time by the middle
of its body. I was interested and surprised at the amount of venom that
squirted out as the snake was biting the crossbar. I emerged victorious
in the end. And the snake, well… it died.

The second and crowning victory of the evening occurred when my wife
admitted, in a moment of weakness, that men are not useless after all.

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