Oh Yeah, There’s a Snake in the House
A Houzz contributor lives through her worst nightmare and comes out the other side with lessons learned and new footwear
I remember every snake I’ve ever seen in my life: dead, alive, “in real life,” in a movie, from neighbors’ photos on Nextdoor, in a terrifying story on my Daily Mail app.
Around Halloween I avoid a street where I know a house has two fake cobras on the wall along the sidewalk. In fact, my earliest memory is of my father, an imposing 6-foot-4 former NCAA Division I tackle, chopping a snake to bits with a hoe in my grandmother’s backyard. He was terrified of them, and I’m sure a therapist would tell me that seeing my big, strong protector so scared of something caused my own fear.
Because of my terror, I was never a fan of the Indiana Jones franchise, and when a snake crawled in Diane Lane’s window in Under the Tuscan Sun, I thought to myself, “If that were me, I would have said, ‘That Tuscan sun and Marcello sure are gorgeous, Too bad I have to leave immediately and never come back.’ ”
Around Halloween I avoid a street where I know a house has two fake cobras on the wall along the sidewalk. In fact, my earliest memory is of my father, an imposing 6-foot-4 former NCAA Division I tackle, chopping a snake to bits with a hoe in my grandmother’s backyard. He was terrified of them, and I’m sure a therapist would tell me that seeing my big, strong protector so scared of something caused my own fear.
Because of my terror, I was never a fan of the Indiana Jones franchise, and when a snake crawled in Diane Lane’s window in Under the Tuscan Sun, I thought to myself, “If that were me, I would have said, ‘That Tuscan sun and Marcello sure are gorgeous, Too bad I have to leave immediately and never come back.’ ”
I was puttering through my dining room in my slippers when I realized there was a snake splayed right there in the middle of the floor, slithering around a little bit. (Its location is marked here, as if I were going to go grab a camera during this ordeal.)
Bubby was no help. She prefers critters of the plush variety.
I screamed bloody murder. I screamed for my cat, Bubby, to come help. She looked at me and continued chilling on the sofa. I screamed every curse word I’ve ever heard, in quick succession. Frozen in my spot with my mouth wide open, I looked around in a panic for a snake-wrangling tool or weapon.
I screamed bloody murder. I screamed for my cat, Bubby, to come help. She looked at me and continued chilling on the sofa. I screamed every curse word I’ve ever heard, in quick succession. Frozen in my spot with my mouth wide open, I looked around in a panic for a snake-wrangling tool or weapon.
These slippers are toasty on chilly evenings, but they are not good snake-wrangling footwear. I am considering wearing snake boots 24/7 from now on.
I Was on My Own
To my left I saw a folk art painting on plywood and considered flinging it on top of the creature to kill it.
Somehow I couldn’t make myself do that. Maybe it was some altruistic animal-loving part of me. More likely it was about quickly thinking through having to clean up the carcass and potentially getting snake entrails on a sweet painting that I love.
Painting: Cornbread
To my left I saw a folk art painting on plywood and considered flinging it on top of the creature to kill it.
Somehow I couldn’t make myself do that. Maybe it was some altruistic animal-loving part of me. More likely it was about quickly thinking through having to clean up the carcass and potentially getting snake entrails on a sweet painting that I love.
Painting: Cornbread
To my right was a big bag of recycling waiting to be taken out the back door. Oh nooooooo! I hadn’t taken it out yet because I was in my slippers and the back door was locked. I raced to get the key and unlock the bolt, keeping my eye on the home invader: If he slithered off and hid somewhere inside the house I’d have to flee, put a “For Sale” sign in the yard and ditch my belongings forever.
I grabbed a small Birchbox lid and scooted the snake toward the door, screaming. In hindsight, a newspaper would have been better. Or better yet, a broom.
I grabbed a small Birchbox lid and scooted the snake toward the door, screaming. In hindsight, a newspaper would have been better. Or better yet, a broom.
It was working. The thing was heading toward the door. I gave it another scoot. And then, to get it over the threshold, I gave it a sort of high-sticking scoop, which sent it flying out. It landed in the middle of the driveway with me screaming a final stream of obscenities.
Dear Neighbors, Sorry for the Swearing and Screaming
I wonder if any of my neighbors witnessed this. If they did, no one has gossiped about it on Nextdoor, at least not yet, because I checked. People on Nextdoor tend to post photos of snakes in their yards or dead in the street, and it traumatizes me every time. I find out where they live and remove that street from any future walks.
For this reason we are not illustrating this story with photos of snakes. People, please stop posting snake photos on Nextdoor!
Dear Neighbors, Sorry for the Swearing and Screaming
I wonder if any of my neighbors witnessed this. If they did, no one has gossiped about it on Nextdoor, at least not yet, because I checked. People on Nextdoor tend to post photos of snakes in their yards or dead in the street, and it traumatizes me every time. I find out where they live and remove that street from any future walks.
For this reason we are not illustrating this story with photos of snakes. People, please stop posting snake photos on Nextdoor!
I Googled “Atlanta snake in house” and called the first number that popped up. I don’t remember the name of the very nice man at Trapper John’s, but he was dealing with a trauma case (me) and was really good at it. He must get that a lot.
My panicked thinking was that more of these creatures had infiltrated the house via heating vents, the dryer vent, some hole I didn’t know about — or the toilet, like in those stories about Bangkok that I’d been reading on my Daily Mail app. (The Mail loves a good snake story; I’ve never forgotten the one about a certain SunShine McCurry who wrangled a large black snake into a pillowcase, armed only with said pillowcase, in her living room in North Carolina. Look it up if you dare. She is Wonder Woman.)
My Hero
The nice man assured me that a technician named Chad Walden would call me back within the hour. And he sure did. Chad had to continue the therapy. I needed to know how this reptile had gained access to my house and if he had brought any slithering friends in with him.
Chad couldn’t tell me without seeing my house, but he helped me figure out that the snake had probably crawled in through the screened porch door, which has a big gap under it, then through the door I keep open between the kitchen and the porch.
At this point it’s only fair to tell you that after I described the snake as brown and small, Chad assured me it was a garter snake. The thing was no thicker than my pinky finger at its fattest; if it had been any bigger, I’d still be in a vegetative state. This gave me comfort: While I can’t control a toilet snake, I can keep garter snakes out by keeping that door shut and locked forever.
I set up an appointment with Chad and hightailed it out of the state to a friend’s house in Birmingham, Alabama. On day two, she came up her basement stairs in a panic, carrying a space heater. “Becky, I need your help!” she said. She was out of breath and white as a ghost. I asked her if she needed me to grab the heater or call her an ambulance, because I thought she was having a heart attack. “No, there’s a mustache bug on the basement stairs — can you kill it for me?” she pleaded. Mustache bugs are her biggest fear and I certainly could relate.
I’ll take 100 mustache bugs, also known as house centipedes, over a snake any day. I promptly smushed it with a paper towel.
My panicked thinking was that more of these creatures had infiltrated the house via heating vents, the dryer vent, some hole I didn’t know about — or the toilet, like in those stories about Bangkok that I’d been reading on my Daily Mail app. (The Mail loves a good snake story; I’ve never forgotten the one about a certain SunShine McCurry who wrangled a large black snake into a pillowcase, armed only with said pillowcase, in her living room in North Carolina. Look it up if you dare. She is Wonder Woman.)
My Hero
The nice man assured me that a technician named Chad Walden would call me back within the hour. And he sure did. Chad had to continue the therapy. I needed to know how this reptile had gained access to my house and if he had brought any slithering friends in with him.
Chad couldn’t tell me without seeing my house, but he helped me figure out that the snake had probably crawled in through the screened porch door, which has a big gap under it, then through the door I keep open between the kitchen and the porch.
At this point it’s only fair to tell you that after I described the snake as brown and small, Chad assured me it was a garter snake. The thing was no thicker than my pinky finger at its fattest; if it had been any bigger, I’d still be in a vegetative state. This gave me comfort: While I can’t control a toilet snake, I can keep garter snakes out by keeping that door shut and locked forever.
I set up an appointment with Chad and hightailed it out of the state to a friend’s house in Birmingham, Alabama. On day two, she came up her basement stairs in a panic, carrying a space heater. “Becky, I need your help!” she said. She was out of breath and white as a ghost. I asked her if she needed me to grab the heater or call her an ambulance, because I thought she was having a heart attack. “No, there’s a mustache bug on the basement stairs — can you kill it for me?” she pleaded. Mustache bugs are her biggest fear and I certainly could relate.
I’ll take 100 mustache bugs, also known as house centipedes, over a snake any day. I promptly smushed it with a paper towel.
Sorry slippers, you’ve been replaced by sturdy boots as my preferred in-house footwear.
Once I got back to Atlanta, Chad came over and took a look at the door between my porch and my backyard and felt confident that the little bugger had slithered in through there.
What to Do When There’s a Snake in the House
First: Before doing anything to get rid of the snake yourself, be absolutely sure it’s not poisonous. I know it’s hard, but before you find yourself in a situation like this, take the time to learn what the poisonous snakes in your area look like. Look at photos and study the snakes’ markings and behavior. If you suspect a snake is poisonous, get out of there and call in the pros.
If you’re certain the snake is not poisonous, and you don’t have an apparatus like a pinch bar (which the pros use to grab a snake by the neck), Chad recommends opening doors and nudging the snake with a broom or a shovel. “It will keep going until it finds its way to the door,” he says. “Just shoo it and it will go on out.” If you’re a little braver or too far from the door, he recommends placing a box on its side, nudging the non-poisonous snake toward the box, and then closing it up.
As for preventing infestations, you don’t want to give snakes an inviting spot to set up a nest. (I almost just passed out typing that.) For instance, I need to clear a lot of invasive English ivy in my jungle of a backyard.
And Chad sprayed a snake repellent around the house for me. Is this the snake-oil version of a placebo repellent given to people with ophidiophobia to make them feel better for a hefty sum? If so, I don’t care. It worked on my shaken psyche. Add this to the list of things I’ll be having done to my house every year, in addition to rodent, termite and roach prevention. If you count the time I had to have squirrels removed from my attic, I’ve cycled through four different extermination companies. That’s life in Georgia.
It’s been a few days and I’m still wearing boots and carefully scanning floors before entering a room. But I feel empowered too. And when I think of the little guy, I’m glad I didn’t kill him. I think he may even be sort of cute. As long as he sticks to our deal: Stay outside, out of sight.
More: How to Outsmart Backyard Critters
Once I got back to Atlanta, Chad came over and took a look at the door between my porch and my backyard and felt confident that the little bugger had slithered in through there.
What to Do When There’s a Snake in the House
First: Before doing anything to get rid of the snake yourself, be absolutely sure it’s not poisonous. I know it’s hard, but before you find yourself in a situation like this, take the time to learn what the poisonous snakes in your area look like. Look at photos and study the snakes’ markings and behavior. If you suspect a snake is poisonous, get out of there and call in the pros.
If you’re certain the snake is not poisonous, and you don’t have an apparatus like a pinch bar (which the pros use to grab a snake by the neck), Chad recommends opening doors and nudging the snake with a broom or a shovel. “It will keep going until it finds its way to the door,” he says. “Just shoo it and it will go on out.” If you’re a little braver or too far from the door, he recommends placing a box on its side, nudging the non-poisonous snake toward the box, and then closing it up.
As for preventing infestations, you don’t want to give snakes an inviting spot to set up a nest. (I almost just passed out typing that.) For instance, I need to clear a lot of invasive English ivy in my jungle of a backyard.
And Chad sprayed a snake repellent around the house for me. Is this the snake-oil version of a placebo repellent given to people with ophidiophobia to make them feel better for a hefty sum? If so, I don’t care. It worked on my shaken psyche. Add this to the list of things I’ll be having done to my house every year, in addition to rodent, termite and roach prevention. If you count the time I had to have squirrels removed from my attic, I’ve cycled through four different extermination companies. That’s life in Georgia.
It’s been a few days and I’m still wearing boots and carefully scanning floors before entering a room. But I feel empowered too. And when I think of the little guy, I’m glad I didn’t kill him. I think he may even be sort of cute. As long as he sticks to our deal: Stay outside, out of sight.
More: How to Outsmart Backyard Critters
I know, snakes can take care of rats and are good for the garden, but frankly, my dears, I don’t give a damn, especially since there’s been a big copperhead problem in my area for the last few summers.