This blog post probably won’t help with your writing, but I wanted to share an experience I had the other day that has made me think. I was in my yard, getting ready to water the grass seed that a landscape company had put down for me. The seed was covered with straw and then with plastic netting. As I got closer to the place where I was going to put the sprinkler, I saw something at the edge of the netting. At first, I thought it was a rubber snake that someone had tossed out because it was long and black and not moving. When I came upon it, however, I saw it was a real snake, a black rat snake. It had gotten itself twisted in the plastic netting and was trapped.
Now, my daughter is a herpetologist (reptile and amphibian expert), so I knew the snake was harmless. I also knew that I had to try to release the snake from the netting or it would die. I ran into my house and got a pair of small scissors and hurried back to the snake, who was still struggling against the netting. His head was tangled, and the netting was wrapped around his middle. I started snipping the netting close to the snake’s body to get it loose and was able to release its head and tail. However, he had crawled through the netting and still had a piece wrapped tightly around his middle. For reasons I can’t fully explain, it became my mission to get it off him and save him.
I tried to hold the snake in place to get to the piece of netting. I put the scissors close to him, but I couldn’t get the blade under the netting. Then the snake decided he didn’t like me touching him, and he began to strike at me, trying to bite me. I snatched my hand back, then tried again to cut the plastic off him. He struck at me again.
I knew I had to get that plastic from around his body or it would never come free. The netting was a type of thick, strong plastic that the snake could not have gotten off by himself by rubbing against a rock or some wood. The snake was not that large, only a couple of feet, so I knew it was a young snake. As he grew, that plastic would tighten. Only my act of kindness could get it off him.
But I was afraid of him biting me. I knew he was not venomous, but I still didn’t like the thought of being bitten. Snake bites, even by non-venomous snakes, are painful. They are puncture wounds that continue to hurt after the snake lets go.
I tried one last time to take hold of the snake and cut the plastic off. He lashed out at me and nearly bit my hand. I got a stick and moved him away from the netting into a grassy place near the edge of a creek. Then I ran back into the house to get a pillowcase. I thought that if I could get him into the pillowcase (I had seen my daughter do it), I could get him to a vet, who could get the netting off him. But when I got back to the place where I had left him, he was gone. I was unable to perform my act of kindness for that creature.
My failure bothered me the rest of the day, and I still think about it. I hope the snake was able to get the netting off by himself, but I have my doubts. My daughter told me that it was a good sign that he tried to bite me, meaning he was well enough to defend himself. And it was good that he was mobile enough to slither off by himself. But that little piece of plastic haunts me.
I should have let that snake bite me. I knew better than he did what had to be done; he was defending himself against my merciful act because he didn’t understand that I was trying to help him. As the one who knew the consequences of leaving the plastic around him, it was my duty to do whatever I could to get it off. I should have ignored his bites and snipped off that netting. What would have been a little pain to me would have meant life for him. Now he is in danger of being unable to free himself of that plastic. It might interfere with his ability to digest his food, and it might harm him as he grows. What was a little pain compared to that? Was my drive to be kind so weak that I let the thought of a little pain stop me?
I stopped my act of kindness because the snake lashed out at me. I should have been the bigger person (?) and saved him from himself. That’s true kindness, committing a merciful act even when the recipient doesn’t see the larger picture and struggles against the kindness. It’s that way with parenting; sometimes it’s that way with friendship. I should have taken the pain and saved the snake.
I’ll forever wonder what happened to him. If I see him in my yard again, I’ll put on some gloves, take my scissors, and get that netting off him. I won’t care if he gets upset; I won’t care if he bites. I’ll be strong in my kindness. Next time.
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