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Don't get all excited. This isn't what you think. It's a snake story of a different kind.

I love all sorts of animals. They don't have to be furry and cute. They can be lumpy and ugly or scaly and yet somehow compellingly beautiful.

I have respect for all living things (and a lot of non-living things as well … rocks mainly) and the insect world is part of that. Cockroaches are not intrinsically bad. They are just " bad " because of the ultimate results if we were to allow them to share our homes … so we don't. It's a shame that it has to end so badly for the roaches. Snakes are not intrinsically bad either, but not everyone feels this way; my husband included. A measure of his devotion to me is the suffering he has had to endure because of my obsession with animals of all kinds. He's learned not to kill the spiders living in our house. When the bugs get to be too much for him, he gently puts them outside.

One day, needing to get out of the house and move a bit after sitting at the computer for hours, I took a walk by myself. My husband, Bernd, and I usually do this together. It's a lot more fun that way. We can ooh and ahh over the cute cottontail rabbits or the baby quail. But he was at work and I had no choice but to go it alone.

When we walk together we follow a two-mile route and when I walk by myself, I take the same route. A little less than half way through it, I came upon two older women (older than me, that is) standing in the homeowner's driveway (I know the homeowner only to say " hi " in passing to her) about 25 feet away from a car parked on the street.

I said " hi " as usual and instead of saying " hi " back (as usual), she launched into a short speech. The gist of it was that her friend wanted to get in her car and leave, but that she could not because there was a big, huge snake underneath it.

Suddenly my brain was all lit up and saying something like, " Snake? Snake. Really? A snake. " And I just had to take a look see. I walked over to the car and got down on my hands and knees and peered cautiously under the car. I'm not totally reckless. There was a big snake under there alright. It had probably crawled under there to get out of the sun and find a little bit of coolness. When I straightened up, the two ladies had moved further away and more toward the house.

I told them that yup, that was a big snake alright and that I could try to get it out from under the car if they wanted. They said go ahead, but moved even further away. Well, they didn't know what it might do when I tried to roust it.

I sat on my butt and stuck my leg under the car and just managed to nudge it with my foot. I did this several times before it decided that its shady spot had become way to busy to stay any longer and it started to move out from under the car. It headed for the bushes at the front of the woman's property and that's when she started yelling. She didn't want it in her bushes any more than they wanted it under the car.

I leaped up and went after it. Luckily for me (and them), the snake had cooled off enough under the car that it was a bit sluggish. Snakes can move freakishly fast for all that they have no legs. At any rate, in no time I had the thing in my hands and we were busily getting acquainted. I was delighted, it was not so much so.

When I looked over at the two ladies they were now hugging each other and standing with their backs right up against the garage door. I have a healthy respect for the venomous snakes and wouldn't dream of trying to handle one of those. But I've never understood the average person's fear of snakes in general (I'm in no way trying to imply that I am anything but average). By the way, most non-venomous snakes (emphasis on the most) have round pupils in their eyes. Most venomous snakes have slitted pupils (like a cat's). In the gloom under the car, though, I couldn't be completely certain because, like a cat's pupils, a venomous snake's slitted pupils will also open up into a round shape. But it didn't have a rattle or other warning markings.

So I was standing there with the snake trying to wriggle out of my grasp and waiting for a thank you, but all I got was a nervous, " What are you going to do with it, " from the homeowner. I assured her that I would take it far, far away before letting it go.

Me and the snake continued on with my walk. I was home before I realized it and I still had the snake in my hands. I'd met a couple of people along the way and they all kept well away from me. No one commented, however. Apparently it is best not to mess with someone who has a snake in her hands. I also realized that somewhere along the line, I had decided to keep it.

That snake was probably six feet long and was quite heavy. It was cool to the touch and smooth as silk. The play of its muscles while I held it in my hands was like music. So I put it in a big, cardboard box along with a bowl of water in case it was thirsty. I left it alone for the rest of the day. I figured it'd had enough excitement for a while and might want to rest. When Bernd got home from work, I told him I had something really neat to show him.

I took him to the box and opened the lid. We both bent over and looked inside. I said, " Oh, it's gone. " Bernd said, " What's gone? " He didn't just say this like you might ask what's for dinner. There was a bit more anxiety in the question than that. He knows me so well.

I saw that the snake had spilled its water which had softened the cardboard, which had allowed it to make a hole (on the back side of the box) in order to escape. Wiley snake. So I explained all this to Bernd and he said, " I can see that, but what was in the box? "

When I told him it was a six foot long snake, he said, " By God (see, this is where the religion comes into it … it's very thin, I know, but there you are), you will find that snake before we go to bed tonight because I am not going to fall asleep with a snake loose in the house. " I didn't really see the problem, but got right on it anyway. I do love him and don't like to see him upset.

Bernd went into our bedroom (he didn't shut the door, he has more sense than that) to change out of his work clothes and I put on my thinking cap. I figured it was just looking for a quieter place to hide (the nook off the kitchen is a well traveled area) and hadn't really gone far. I started looking in the den and found it in no time. It was behind a couple of pillows that were on the floor against a wall.

I carried it into the bedroom and said to Bernd, " Look. I found it. Can I keep it? " His eyes had gone really wide, but I suspected it wasn't with admiration for the beauty of it. Then he got this very sly and thoughtful look on his face and instead of just saying " no, " he said, " What are you going to feed it? " That's when it hit me. I was most likely going to have to either buy or live-trap mice for it to eat. I was going to have to put the poor little live mice into the snake's house for it to catch and devour. So I said, " I'll just take it down to Clipper Wash right now and let it go. " That brought a smile to Bernd's face.

I took it down to the wash and found a nice quiet and concealed spot in which to let it go. When I put it down, it didn't rush off as I thought it would. It stayed right there, next to my feet for several moments. I told it to be safe and have a nice life and walked away a bit. When I turned for one last look, it was gone. As much as I love the wild things, it probably is best to simply leave them that way. I know it would make Bernd very happy.

Dianne Lehmann is a jewelry designer who has been in business since January of 2000. Her interest in designing and manufacturing jewelry goes back beyond that to 1994. It took her many years of trying various creative outlets to finally figure out that making jewelry is where she could really shine. Dianne began with simply stringing beads onto cable and has progressed from there. She is now an accomplished lapidary (cuts and polishes stones) and silversmith. Dianne and her husband, Bernd, live in northern Arizona and both love to hike. Dianne can not help but pick up rocks (they are her first love) and some of these find their way into her jewelry. Dianne makes one-of-a-kind pieces that she hopes give people as much joy to view as she gets from the making of them. If you like, you may view her work at http://www.syzygyjewelry.com To read more of her writing, visit  http://searchwarp.com/Author102664.htm