Scared of Snakes? Unfortunately NOT!

　
I discovered today I clearly have ZERO survival instincts when it comes to our slithery, cold-blooded friends.

I always assumed that if I saw a snake I would:
a) die of fright
b) stay calm and call for help
Or c) scream and panic and be killed in the process.
(In Malawi, land of poisonous snakes, any of the above reactions would be fair and justified.)

As it turns out, when I saw my first snake, fright didn’t even register as part of my thought process, raised as I was on the West Coast of British Columbia - land of friendly little garden snakes.

So when I walked past the kitchen table and saw the cat wrestling with a writhing, skinny little snake, my only reaction was to glance at it casually, saunter on by without missing a beat, and casually mention to the housekeeper that it looked like Joy had brought in a snake.

“Anyways, that little thing isn’t poisonous is it?”, I inquired nonchalantly, just as F. froze, and the girls scrambled up onto their desktops.

Next thing I knew the gardener was arriving with a long stick to remove the COBRA from the dining room!

When it had been safely been placed back in the out of doors, the gardener looked at my shocked face and laughed.

“Snake! You were afraid?”

Unfortunately not!
Oops.

Bears I can do. Wolves? No worries. The west coast instilled a healthy fear of “cuddly” creatures in me.

Today’s lesson?
Never rely on the survival instincts of a child who grew up in an environment blissfully free of snakes, spiders and scorpions, when one finds oneself in… Africa!