Black Snake. Moan.

I am not a squealy, flailing type.  However, I do not like to be startled.  Toward that end, the anoles and little frogs that appear around this house at this time of year are not welcome.  (I seem to be almost entirely alone in this opinion.)  If I can't tell when or where something is going to move, I'm not comfortable.

I am currently reading this

900+ page biography.  I take it with me when I take Tap out, so he can walk and I can make some progress.  This keeps me from getting impatient with him, and my focus is mostly on my book while we're outside.  Yesterday, he's walking, I'm reading, and he stopped because a squirrel caught his attention.  (Cliche', I know, but the truth.)  I looked up from the book and noticed about six inches away from my left foot was a black snake.  My heart went into my throat or my stomach or wherever hearts go at times like that, and I made Tap beat a quick path away from there.

I've lived in this house for over 30 years, and have seen exactly four snakes: two in the front yard, two in the back.  I'm good with that for however much longer I'm here.