Same Saturday as the previous post. 150 miles to Doncaster. 150 mile back. Dealing with the Idiot Biker. Traffic jams. Made for a long day. Although the Fish Supper in Rothwells was, as usual, superb. Visit Doncaster. Try it.
On the way back, we attracted the attention of several gesticulating motorists as we sped down the A1 heading South. Finally getting the message that something was wrong, I pulled on to the hard shoulder and stopped. A quick glance underneath, revealed a large plastic moulding dragging along the road, held on by a couple of cable ties. I managed to break the ties, and threw the object into the car boot. Nothing else seemed amiss, so we rejoined the traffic and drove home.
Later investigations on the internet revealed that the large plastic moulding was, in fact, the fuel pump protective cover. Previously refitted, using cable ties, by the previous owner. A bodge job which could have ripped out a large part of the fuel delivery system. Not what you want, at speed, on a motorway.
A long tiring day, and by that evening, I was looking forward to bedtime.
Until the mutt started barking. Oh joy. Just what we want – another bloody hedgehog! Will that dog ever learn? Get the torch. Go investigate.
I have to say that I was mistaken. It was not a hedgehog. It was a snake. Have you ever tried snake identification by fading torchlight? Not easy. Especially when you have a snake that is trying to hide up the centre of a nylon fruit-net. With snakey scales, you can slither in, but when your jaw gets stuck in the mesh, it is impossible to go back.
Luckily, the torch is one of those that you wind up, so a few turns of the handle, we had about 30 seconds to determine the snake identity. A grass snake. Not poisonous, but they do have a nasty set of teeth.
Garden glove time. Kept handy in case of hedgehog infestation. Usable in snake rescue. I managed to grasp the snake, while the wife cranked the torch. Snake hopelessly entangled.
Get the scissors!
The next half hour was spent carefully cutting away the netting. Wobbly torchlight, wind up to recharge, snip carefully. All this time, the snake was doing its best to make itself unpalatable. Snake pooh stinks!
Having cut away the larger part of the net, we moved the snake into the house so that we could see more clearly. I put him in a kid’s pirate chest (I’m not making this up! We had one sitting in the back garden. We didn’t want the house reeking of snake pooh!)
In the light, we could see the final nylon strands that were strangling the snake. I held the snake. The wife carefully snipped. One strand at a time. Eventually, I was able to pull the strands out of its mouth. One lucky snake – unhappy, but undamaged – sitting in a pirate chest.
We took photos! Then I took the snake out into the countryside, and let it go. We were both glad that it was over.
Sunday night was quite peaceful. The next damn hedgehog didn’t turn up until Monday night.
Snakes, hedgehogs and idiot bikers. If that biker turns up in my garden one night, the the dog can have him!
Some things are beyond saving!