I don't like spiders or snakes and that ain't what it takes to love me...

I know, I know...there are other subjects that I need to blog about long before this one.  But this one is about something that just happened and I just had to share it!  For those of you who know the gentle-gecko-goo-removal side of my husband, here is another facet of the man.  The determined hunter and protector. 

It's been one of those if-you-give-a-mouse-a-cookie kind of mornings...and an old Jim Stafford song is playing in my head.   

We have a tall plastic cart with drawers that sits next to our stove.  I had formerly used this cart in the study to hold office supplies but this kitchen has no drawers at all, so I use it now to hold all my kitchen utensils, dish towels, pot holders, etc.
About 6:10 this morning, Jim went to pour himself a cup of coffee...the coffee pot sits on the counter right next to this cart...and he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye on top of the cart.  There was a small garter-type snake that had laid claim to that spot!  Jim grabbed the fly-swatter to try to hold it down and grab it but the fly-swatter was too flexible to do the job and the snake was too flexible to be held.  It jumped, leaped, fell...whatever...it hit the floor and promptly slithered right into the back of the stove.
Mind you, I was still fast asleep at that time and knew nothing of what was going on in the kitchen.  I usually get up shortly after Jim but I have not slept well the last few nights so I guess I was extra tired and just kept sleeping on...totally oblivious to the Wild Kingdom adventure taking place in the cocina.
When I finally woke up (a few minutes before 8:00 a.m. mind you!), I was startled to see how late it was.  I got up, went out towards the kitchen to get a cup of coffee, fully prepared to apologize to my husband for sleeping so late, only to see my kitchen stove in pieces all over the floor.  My eyes were open and I was walking but I don't think I was yet fully awake.  I looked at Jim, as he was graciously pouring me a cup of coffee, and could tell he was trying to think of a how to tell me what was going on just as I was trying to comprehend why my stove was in the middle of the floor with various parts of it laying all about. 
The last time the stove was pulled out, there was a mouse that had gotten inside of it and that's what I was beginning to assume had happened again.  Jim handed me my cup of coffee and said, very calmly, "There's a snake in the oven."  Obviously, he had thought that statement through.  
"What???" I gasped.
"There's a snake in the oven."
"A snake?  How did a snake get in the oven?  How did it get in the house?  How do you know it's in the oven?"
"I'm not really sure how he got in there but I'm pretty sure that's where he is."  Jim's a one question-at-a-time-kind of guy. 
"Pretty sure???"
"Yeah, I don't know how he got in the house..."
"Are you SURE he's in the oven and didn't get away somewhere else in the kitchen?" 
"Yeah...pretty sure."
I am not a "pretty sure" kind of gal.  I want a definite "yes" or "no" and a lot of explanation to accompany either one.  Jim is not much of an explainer, patient as he is...especially when he's been trying for the last few hours to catch, lure, coax or chase a snake out of the oven.
I then asked the next logical question, "If you can't find him, does this mean I get a new stove?"
Due to my astuteness (assisted by Jim's giving of "that look", I realized all of my questions were not an asset at the moment and so I stood and watched silently (more or less) as he continued to slowly remove pieces of the stove, one at a time. 
Finally, the fog of my sleeping late lifted after a few slurps of coffee, and I had to venture one more question..."Don't you think it would be a good idea to take the stove out back and do that?  What if he gets out and you can't catch him in time?  Or what if you try to hit him with something and you break a floor tile?"  The one more question obviously took on a life of its own and grew quickly into more. 
But, Jim saw the wisdom in that suggestion and moved the stove out to the patio area and continued his disassembling.  I decided to go take a shower and stay as far away from the process and the snake as possible.  I hollered out one more suggestion..."Hook the stove up again and light it...don't you think he'll come out then?"  I heard some mumbling and then, "I hope he would come out."  That ranks on the same level as "Pretty sure."
I got in the shower.  Within minutes, I heard something pounding against the concrete edge of the patio and then repeated whacks on the gravel.  I hollered at Jim if he got it and his tired but joyous reply was, "Yeah!!  Thank you, Lord!!"  I echoed those same thanks from the shower!
Of course, I rapidly got dressed so I could go see what I had envisioned to be a snake of pythonic proportions.  It was much smaller...even if it would have still had it's head attached.  But it was still every bit as unwelcome.
It seems as though Jim decided to disregard my suggestion of roasting the creature and opted to tip the stove up on its side to see if it was on the bottom side of the stove.  As he did, the snake dropped down and began slithering away.  He had one of my big wooden cooking spoons and used it to trap it and then finished it off with the machete. 
That would have been the lovely ending to the story...but there was still a stove to reassemble and a floor to clean (note to self: the stove should be moved out more frequently than when there's a resident rodent or reptile). This also led to sweeping all the floors and scrubbing down the plastic cart to remove any possible remains of snake cooties which then naturally led to cleaning and returning to its proper home, all the other paraphernalia that was somehow needed in this reptilian removal.
I am so grateful that I have a husband who will let his wife sleep-in, even when he's in the midst of trying to extricate a stealthy, sneaky, stove-seeking snake, who perseveres in the hunt (the thought of buying a new stove might have helped with that motivation somewhat), who is not going to rest until he has caught his prey and who did not argue when I said, "Throw the spoon away."  
Oh, how I love that man of mine!  He knows I don't like spiders or snakes!