Bless the Beasts . . . all of them!

I don’t like snakes. They creep me out. On the other hand, I absolutely hate roaches. They stink, they make NOISE when they gallop across the room, and they carry germs. Once when I was staying in the Amazon rain forest, I had to go to the separate women’s restroom in the middle of the night. I crawled out of my mosquito net and tiptoed over the elevated walkway, then went into a bathroom stall. I sat, and then saw the largest cockroach I had ever seen right above the toilet paper dispenser. The lodge was eco-friendly . . . they didn’t spray for bugs or anything, so everything was “natural.” So, very firmly, I told the roach that I wouldn’t hurt him if he promised not to move. He didn’t.

But back to my story. Yesterday I was wrestling with my fictional characters when my dog Jazzy wanted to go outside. She’s recovering from a major surgery, so I had to go out with her to make sure she didn’t start running, jumping, or turning cartwheels. After walking her around, I stopped by the chicken coop to check on the girls . . . uh oh. Trouble in chicken city.

I have done my best to make sure my coop and run are predator-proof . . . and to date, I haven’t lost a single bird to predators, and there are plenty of them around–hawks, raccoons, possums, bobcats, coyotes, and owls. To keep the girls safe, I’ve covered the entire coop and run in hardware cloth (metal cloth with tiny holes) and a layer of bird netting. The bird netting is for the snakes, and trust me, it catches them.

Unfortunately, it tends to entangle them, and the more they thrash, the more entangled they get. So yesterday I looked into the chicken run and discovered a five-foot rat snake dangling from the ceiling–he had hung himself in the bird netting, and he was still struggling.

Rat snakes are dangerous only to rats, and I strongly believe they should fulfill their life’s calling, as our jungle setting has plenty of rats to spare. So I decided to save him.

The rat snake from the chicken run.

The LAST thing I wanted to do was handle a snake of any sort, but I couldn’t let the poor thing hang there until he died–he could hang there for days, and the girls might decide to peck at him. Hubby wasn’t home. Dogs couldn’t help. So I went to the workshop and pulled on my gardening gloves, then went inside and brought out a pair of scissors. I went into the run, and the hens all gathered around to watch as I snipped the netting from the snake’s throat and finally cut him down. Had to pull away a few more pieces to be sure he wouldn’t choke, then I let him go. He slithered straight to the back of the run and all the girls followed–I think they were wondering if he would taste like chicken. The coop was so predator proof I had to open the door to let the snake out, but he seemed happy to be free and leave the girls alone.

Actually, I think he was a bit shell-shocked.

Another rat snake in my yard . . . chasing a rat

I’ll admit–I felt pretty pleased that I’d tackled that chore and got ‘er done. But later, I remembered a conversation–or maybe it was an email exchange– I’d had with Randy Alcorn. We had been talking about his book HEAVEN, and I said something about not being sure that I’d appreciate having roaches in heaven and on the new earth. I mean, really? And Randy said something to the effect that I’d feel differently in heaven–that all my revulsion and feelings about those creatures would be gone.

I’m hoping he’s right because I’ve never felt good about loving dogs and hating roaches. I mean, God’s creatures are God’s creatures, right? Unfortunately, I fear I’ll have to wait until heaven before I can rush out to save a roach. But I’m working on it.