The other day while I was out (I always seem to be out when these exciting events occur), there were some snake incidents. Next door's maid was busy battering a snake to it's doom, when she noticed that there was a black cobra in our garden. Being the great multi tasker that these Filipina ladies are, she hollered over to Jeane to let her know about the unwanted visitor in our garden, while not missing a beat on the snake's head.
So Jeane, armed with her "snake stick" was assuming the position (picture a woman, eyes not wavering from her victim, lightly running toward it, holding onto a long pole like a javelin thrower), when she thought she saw what the snake was heading to. A mouse. But a dead one. So if you're keeping count, we have one dead snake next door, and one dead mouse. Jeane was keen to add the cobra to the massacre count. But before she could get to the snake, it disappeared - slippery little buggers they are.
But oh yes, we got our 3rd victim. Not a snake. But, the baby mouse... Jeane, in her first rule of snake hunting (never take your eyes off the serpent), didn't notice the baby mouse next to the dead mummy mouse, and stepped on it. Not pretty is it. Poor little thing. Well the snake would probably have gotten it anyway.
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