Annabelle Hickson: A Day in the Country
WHY ANNABELLE HICKSON’S PLAN TO STOP UNWELCOME VISITORS BACKFIRED.
MAY I INTRODUCE the newest member of our family, who is now sitting ever so sweetly on my lap: a tiny, wiry-haired Jack Russell puppy. The kids have named him Bob — Bob Mongoose Hickson — because, like a mongoose, we’re hoping his main motivation in life will be to scare away snakes. At the moment he seems largely preoccupied with digging tiny holes in the garden, only to backfill them using his snout, but his tastes will hopefully mature as he gets older. I recently decided that we needed Bob. My five-year-old daughter had been busy cleaning the bedroom she shares with her brother when she came to get me to look at her good (and, if I might add, not typical) work. “Shut your eyes, Mum. No peeking. I have a surprise for you,” she said as she led me by the hand down the hallway. We rounded the corner and paused at the threshold of the bedroom. “Surprise, Mum. Open your eyes!” I did as instructed and saw an enormous king brown snake coiled up next to the doorway. “BEEP!” I screamed, stuck to the spot, as Harriet’s eyes grew in terror and the snake reared up in strike position. I yelled for Ed who happened to be in the house for smoko. “There’s a huge brown snake Ed, save us.” Then flight mode kicked in and we bolted. I know I’ve heard it’s best to remain still and silent when you’re near a snake, but that went out the window. Ed got all panicky too — not something that happens often. I bailed up the kids, threw them in the buggy and raced to the shed, with Harriet sobbing hysterically, “I don’t want daddy to die by venom”. This was the third venomous snake we’d had in the house in the last couple of years, and all three were more or less in the same spot. One of those times, we had our very own Steve Irwin over for dinner. He calmly caught the snake near the kids’ train set with his bare hands and took it outside. Since the latest king brown snake saga, Harriet has asked every night as I tuck her into bed, “Will the snakes get me tonight?”, and I’ve said “no darling, of course not”, trying to keep calm as my internal voice points out “but you cannot be sure can you, Annie”. My theory is that the snakes are attracted to the vibrations of washing machine. I don’t know if this is true, but I did hear a story from my mother-in-law about a man playing bagpipes at a picnic party in the bush, and as he played a big snake approached him from behind, attracted by the vibrations of the pipes. The crowd looked on in horror, some screaming. Anyway, the laundry is just near the scene of the crime, which is just near the children’s bedroom. It doesn’t help matters that their bedroom doesn’t have a door. I am not sure what happened to it, or if it was ever there at all. But because of this, there is no physical boundary between their room, the snake-attracting hallway and the laundry. Tom’s only request for Christmas was that Santa give him a door. Unfortunately, the door opening is not a standard size and Santa couldn’t work it out. So instead we got Bob Mongoose Hickson, who sleeps in what is effectively a port-a-cot at the doorway of the kids’ bedroom. Standing guard. The problem is we’ve now all fallen madly in love with him and we need to find something to protect our protector. Annabelle Hickson lives on a pecan farm in the Dumaresq Valley, NSW. Follow @annabellehickson on Instagram.