Patti Soldavini

Snake Guy

In weimaraners on 04/19/2011 at 7:20 pm


Olive and I meet all kinds of people on our daily walks. Most are very friendly, some approach us directly to pet Olive, others just feel obligated to be polite, and a few are out-and-out closeted psychopaths who when I say “Hello,” stare blankly ahead as though walking away from a horrific crime scene. They say nothing. They do not even acknowledge our presence. And then there’s “Snake Guy.” On one bright sunny day, as Olive and I walked down the sidewalk toward a guy who appeared to be in his mid-twenties, she starts to approach him. Olive is an “attention whore.” She’ll take it from anyone who’s giving it out. We start to chat while he bends down slightly to pet her. Olive melts into her usual state of ecstasy and begins reciprocating by licking every exposed area of skin on his body. After she’s done giving him a “French whore’s bath,” we disengage and say goodbye. Then for good measure, she rams her nose into his crotch. And it’s only at that moment that I look more closely at this guy and there’s a giant snake coiled around his neck. WHOSE HEAD IS NOW RAISED AND HISSING AT ME. He’s wearing his pet like a scarf. The thoughts that immediately race through my mind are (in the following order) 1. Gross. 2. Thank God Olive didn’t notice and bite its head off. I’m not sure I have “snake coverage.” 3. Thank God it didn’t bite Olive. 4. That guy was probably surprised that I wasn’t grossed out. 5. “HOLY CRAP. AM I BLIND OR WHAT? Who knows, maybe next time we’ll meet someone walking their pet ant eater by wearing it as a hat.

  1. OMG! Too funny.

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