While waiting for my pain pills to kick into that comfortable and dopey (er) state of being that masks the burning pain in my left ankle, I was reading an article on line about how a zoo had (oh my goodness!) MISPLACED a snake.
No garden snake this... oh, no! They seem to have difficulty locating a poisonous COBRA.
A C - O - B - R - A. Cobra.
Isn't that one of those Egyptian snakes that is used in ritual and lore and can turn you from live to dead in a single bite?
And further, how, precisely, does a snake leave without anyone noticing?
It's not like everyone even knows how to identify poisonous snakes either.
Do they shake hands if they are 'friendly' snakes...? Oh, wait, snakes don't have hands.
Do they have warning labels from the Surgeon General? And if they do, why didn't they secure the snakes when they pasted the little labels on them in the first place?
And what methods are used to 'call' a snake? Do we need to import snake charmers? Or will they answer to a specific tone played on a Wurlitzer organ like the aliens on "Close Encounters"?
Do they have names? Pharaoh, Hasheptsut or Steve? And if they do would they come when you call or look at you disdainfully like teenagers and sulk off to be moody all alone?
I am not comforted by the fact that this snake escaped from the Yankees at the Bronx Zoo. This could very well be the first salvo in another round of guerrilla warfare held over from the "Late, Great Unpleasantness". They may well be trying to claim our more pleasant weather since they have been pounded this winter.
Hmmmm.
Maybe that is why the snake left. Maybe that cursed cobra was freezing his hood off and needed to get somewhere warm enough to thaw out his venom sacs.
Come to think of it, I don't remember reading a whole lot of papyri that discuss snow storms in the Nile delta, nor do I remember seeing any hieroglyphics that depict King Tut whacking his royal advisers with a snowball that had an ice core.
And chariot races would take on a whole new meaning with sled runners attached to the chariot. Are there any Egyptian sleigh bells in the museum in Cairo?
All I know is that the cobra's life expectancy is down to a mere sliver if it shows up here at this house. I can well imagine the nice belt and wallet it would become with one blast of my gun. After all, I have seen Riki Tiki Tavi and know how "the man" dispatches Nag and Nagaini with his gun as Riki dances his dance of snakey death. Though I lack the mongoose, I do have Gypsy and she doesn't care for snakes anymore than I do.
So while the Yankees struggle with their little snake problem. I will sit here happy in the knowledge that until snakes develop the ability to use credit cards to purchase travel vouchers to bring them here to be shot and killed, I will be safe.
Hope those damnyankees find their cobra. Otherwise, they are gonna look pretty stupid when Bubba and Earl show up with a new belt or hat band.
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