The other night, David and I were on our nightly 2.1 mile evening constitutional.

For those of you who don't frequent dictionary.com, that is a walk, of sorts. Snicker away!

Anyway, we found a snake in the gutter, unable to slither (that is what snakes do, FYI) up the curb. David and I decided he was a very poisonous snake. Yet, petite!

David tried to hit him with a PennySaver publication in a bag. But that did no good. This little snake just coiled and struck out mercilessly with his big fangs.

We walked home briskly, and assembled a really good snake-hunting kit: a car, a Blue Bunny rainbow sherbet container with snap-on lid, a FedEx envelope, a ducky-shaped cutting board and a pair of leather gloves.

We brought it all home and transferred the snake into an old beta jar. It was one of those big gallon-sized jobs. We covered it with that useless Glad Press N Seal junk.

You know what that damned snake did? It creeped us out by standing upright like Gary Larson snakes always do. Like a ruler.

Then, we found out that it was a plain ol' harmless Texas Brown Snake and let it loose in our back yard. But we told the neighbor boy that it was really big and that we let it loose in his yard. Just for fun.