I have mice. No big deal. There's a brown one and a white one. My daughter calls them by some highly complicated Japanese name and I get to clean the cage. They're nice mice--I call them brown mouse and white mouse. I have no imagination, lol.
Crows, mice and rats? I have this thing about smart animals. Ravens? Maybe not so much. Sometimes you get the feeling they're so smart they're malicious. Maybe why there are so many legends about Raven the Trickster.
But the other day, my youngest was out in the garage and comes pounding on my door. "Mom," he cries. "Don't go out in the garage without combat boots."
Of course, I had to ask why.
"There's a snake. In the garage somewhere. It keeps hissing."
He knows I hate snakes. Of all the animals out there, I hate'em. Doesn't matter if it's a tiny three inch squiggle. It's a freaking snake.
I avoid pet stores with snake rooms. I go "around" snake houses at the zoo. Snakes bother me on some kind of fundamental level. I like birds--but when my kid (same one, and why is that?) put my all new bird feeder on a stick out in the middle of the untamed wild that is my backyard, I knew damned well I'm not stepping one foot (even in a combat boot) into the tall grass. I started for it last year and just as I reached open ground heard the tell-tale quick slither.
Under the deck away from me.
I figured--it's gone. It lives under the deck. It's a "garden snake" (which everyone tells me is non-venomous and scared of humans). Live and let live as long as it doesn't get some kind of idea to crawl up on my deck and scare the living bejeesus out of me.
Now it's in my garage behind the garbage can. It goes hiss.
Guess who used to take out the trash. Guess who won't take out the trash anymore?
Spring is not fun. I'd be happier with pollen.