Working in the garden on Sunday was wonderful, except for the part where I found a snake.
It was a Rough Earth snake, basically harmless, especially at only 12" in length. It was probably very content in the garden bed nestled under the weeds. I took a brave approach when I found it (did not squeal like a girl), grabbed it with my gloved hand, being mindful to grab it just behind its head so it couldn't bite me no matter how small its mouth is.
I carried it over to a gravel patch on the driveway, the dogs-as-saviors bouncing alongside. The snake did not have much response initially to being carried, remaining rather limp and relaxed. As we got closer to the intended drop site it started to contract and curl up my hand and around my fingers. I was not ready to release it yet because we were still over the grass, the last snake I pointed out to the dogs they took to the grass and it escaped (learning curve). This could be the same snake--it is too much to think there may have been two snakes in my garden!
So as it contracts and I can feel it wriggle, even with a garden glove on, it begins to bother me. In a shivery, almost squeally, horrible, scaley, slimey sort of way. By the time I reached the gravel I could barely stand anymore and pitched it unceremoniously on the ground for the dogs to play with. The great part was the automatic shiver and near snakey-dance jig (was not the all out total-body snakey-dance I am capable of)--and the fact that the last 20 seconds is the part Dave witnessed. I am certain he got a pretty good laugh at the pantomime!