One evening my husband, Steve, stepped outside to quiet our dogs that were barking uncontrollably. From inside the house, I heard Steve’s voice grow louder and more urgent.
“Rhonda, come quick,” he shouted from the porch. “There’s a snake in the house!”
“A snake? And you want me to come?”
“Yes,” he said. “I need you to come and watch where it goes. I’ll run and get a shovel to kill it.”
At this point I was sure Steve had completely lost his mind because he thought I was brave enough to be left alone with a snake. But I reluctantly moved into the living room anyway. I was greeted by a disturbing sound I recognized immediately. I looked toward the source of the noise. This wasn’t just any old snake; a 4-foot-long rattlesnake was coiled in the corner of our entryway!
I jumped onto the sofa as I heard Steve call out, “Keep an eye on him. I don’t want him to get lost in the house!”
His request made sense because I was certain I would have had to sell the house and move away if that thing disappeared inside. So I did what any dutiful wife would do; I kept my eye on the “visitor” and decided to video this terrifying event with my phone. At least people will know what happened to me if I die.
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