HHBL and I just got back from spending a few days in Atlanta with Pilot Man and The Chef.
I will tell you all about the stuff that we did and the things that we ate….
DEEP FRIED OKRA!!!! (can you tell I love that stuff).
GRITS!!! (be still my beating heart).
PM and TC have a great little condo in the Mid Town area. We got to sleep up in the loft which worked out great. I got the futon, HHBL got the blow up mattress on the camp bed. All was fine……
Except for one little teeny tiny disturbing thing. Disturbing at night and only disturbing to me.
Brooklyn the Boa
Meey Brooklyn the Rosy Boa. Brooklyn belongs to my nephew. He cannot keep her in his apartment at the moment so she resides in Atlanta….
In her nice big tank…..
In the loft……
Three feet from where my head was resting on my pillow at night.
Can I express to you how un-nerving it is to wake up in the night and to hear her quietly moving around in her tank. We would turn her lamp off at night so we could sleep but that seemed to make her more active. The first night I wake up to this gentle tapping noise.
What is that noise. That gentle tapping noise. I roll over, get comfy again, and happen to glance up at the tank shrouded in darkness and mystery.
Can I tell you, just as an aside, that it is never good and always creepy to have a snake tank shrouded in darkness and mystery.
Now back to the story.
I roll over, I look up, and there is Brooklyn or at least the upper portion of Brooklyn, swaying like a Cobra, looking at me and then gently tapping against the top of the tank as if she is trying to figure out how to get out.
I felt like that scene in Jurassic Park where the game warden explains that the very clever and very hungry Velociraptors are testing the fences to find weaknesses.
RUN FOR YOUR LIVES!!!!!!!!
And after realizing what the sounds were I just laid there and tried to go back to sleep. I tried and I tried and I tried. But all I could think of was that scene from Jungle Book.
So I put in earplugs, rolled over and fell asleep to the mantra…
Don’t look a the snake. Don’t look at the snake. Don’t look at the snake.
Thank goodness for earplugs.
Actually, I believe Brooklyn is a Ball Python. We became somewhat attached to her while she was living in our basement this past summer. However, the purchase of the weekly "feeder mouse" became greatly complicated by the need to fill out, and sign a form certifying . . . each and every time . . . that we would "give humane treatment to the animal we were purchasing." Now just how dumb is that - "humane treatment" for a feeder mouse - give me a break!ReplyDelete
I had a feeling I got the whole Python v Boa confused. She is a snake and that was all I cared about. "Humane treatment"?? Were you supposed to make sure that Brooklyn squeezed and ate in a kind and considerate manner?ReplyDelete