This article caught my eye in the morning paper today: it describes a young couple who discovered a horrible infestation in their new house in rural Idaho. They describe it as being like living in a horror movie… the man was worried his pregnant wife would miscarry from the stress… now that they’ve left they suffer from post-traumatic stress disorder.
What was their house infested with? Garter snakes. Small, nonvenomous garter snakes. Garter snakes = horror movie? Really? Even the term “infestation” seems like a bit of a stretch, since the article only describes one incident where they actually found a snake inside the house (the wife found it in the laundry room, and naturally she panicked, screamed, and jumped onto a counter to escape it). Apparently they were mostly in the crawl spaces in the walls, and in the yard.
I mean, I can understand not wanting to live in a house infested with snakes. Really, I can, especially since the article mentioned that their well water smelled like garter snake musk (ew – although the more I think about it, the less sense that makes; snake musk somehow permeated the groundwater???). But if you really, truly think about it, which would you rather have in your house, garter snakes or mice? Which one carries hantavirus, nibbles on the food in your cupboards, and shreds the clothes in the back of your closet for nest material? Not the snakes.
I don’t know. Some people.