"You should have seen the one that got away." |
"I finally caught one," Larry came running into the house carrying his mother's favorite hand embroidered pillowcase. "Son," Carol sighed, "you're not supposed to take my bed-linen down to the fishing hole." She took the rose pink butterfly decorated pillowcase from Larry and dumped its contents onto the kitchen table. Laying on her oak table was a one foot long thick bodied snake with olive and brown splotches that merged into irregular and broad strips toward the head. She reached into her apron pocket, pulled out her cell phone, and speed dialed Animal Control. "This is Mrs. Carol Hunter," she smiled. "Yes, we still live at that address." "He caught a large snake this time," she closed the phone and turned to her son. "They are sending their reptile expert, Big Country to pick up the snake." "Wow," Larry's eyes lit up. "He came when I caught the alligator." Taking Larry's hand, she led him out the backdoor and around to the front yard. Thirty minutes later, an Animal Control pick-up pulled into the driveway. A man, six foot tall with black hair, got out and removed a snake hook and gunny sack from the back of the truck. "Nice to see you again, Mrs. Hunter," he patted Larry on the head. "Is the backdoor unlocked?" "Yes," she replied. They followed Big Country to the kitchen door. Forty-five minutes later, he came out of the kitchen carrying the gunny sack, a cord tightly tied around the top, in his right hand and the snake hook in his left. "It's a young African rock python," he said. "Big Country," Larry smile. "You should have seen the one that got away." Larry looked up at the officer, "It must've been forty feet long." |