I am not a native of Arizona. I am not even sure I am a courageous enough person to live in the desert among the creepy crawlies who enjoy their environment and habitat here. There are many things about the desert that are redeeming and many people, including me, love it. I just wish it felt safer.
When I first arrived it was November. That is the time of year when all the critters go underground and wait to come out when it gets hot again. I had heard tales of them but as yet had not encountered any.
I put my fears in the back of my mind and enjoyed the winter without the tons of snow and overcast skies I had been accustomed. I put my boxes of warm clothes and sweaters away and dealt with the cool evenings by throwing on a light jacket that I only needed sometimes. It was pleasant and I forgot totally about what was coming.
In April I began thinking about the critters after my neighbor reminded me to pay attention where I was walking. That was not a comfortable suggestion, but I took it seriously and walked carefully back to my house.
Several weeks lapsed and I saw nothing scary. I began to get my confidence back again. Not that I stopped looking where I planted my feet, just that I hadn’t seen anything unusual.
Then one day I had a complete turnaround that knocked me for a loop. The first thing that happened was I opened my friend’s gate and started to step through and saw a rattlesnake coiled and sleeping next to the gate. I quickly shut the gate and ran out back to get some help. When we came back the snake was gone. That was extremely disconcerting. Now my fears were real and no longer a myth. Now I understood about watching the ground.
I went into my friend’s house and sat down in the living room for a chat. As we sat there drinking ice tea I saw something crawling up the wall. It was pinkish-clear and shaped like the pictures I’d seen of a scorpion. I tried to be casual in asking what it was, and to my horror, it was indeed a scorpion. My neighbor killed it with her shoe and sat back down and continued the conversation as if nothing had happened.
I was shaking inside but did not want to show my cowaderdness. A little while later, I got up to go to the bathroom and as I went around the corner of the kitchen I stopped in my tracks. On the wall was a huge hairy spiderish looking thing on the wall. It did not look real until I saw it move. “What is this?” I called out. “Oh, that’s just a tarantula”, she said calmly as she grabbed an envelope, scooped it up and put it down outside the door.
I had been initiated all in one day. I was beside myself. Like all initiations, my world was turned upside down. I made my way home, knowing that I could never live where there were so many scary things that were part of a normal day in the desert.
Soon after that, a dog in the neighborhood licked a Colorado River Toad while I was there and went into convulsions. She had to be practically drowned with water rushing down her throat before she could come back to normal. It affected her neurological system and for a while she could barely walk, even after the water treatment and she foamed at the mouth for several hours.
That experience made me what I am today: an ax murderer. I was thinking about that just this week when I put my dogs out into a side yard before going to bed. Just as I put them out, a huge toad moved right in front of them. Now, I don’t know if you have ever seen one of these creatures, but they are gigantic, ugly, and strongly resemble “Java the Hut”. I whisked my dogs back into the house and went for the ax.
These toads are not fast and tend to get themselves into corners to get away from you. Because I saw that dog almost die a few years ago, I have no mercy for these poisonous toads. A strong protective urge comes over me that out weighs my fear. I held the ax high over my head and came down hard on the creature over and over until I knew it was dead.
Just the day before, as I was sitting on the porch of my house enjoying the breeze against the backdrop of a very hot day, I saw my two cats carefully moving in the same direction toward a ladder that was against the house. Then I heard the distinct rattle of a rattlesnake. I yelled at the cats to stay away, which did nothing. I started throwing rocks in between the cats and the snake. I got the cats to move away and hastely picked them up and put them in the house. The snake coiled itself up and went to sleep.
I sat watching the snake feeling totally helpless and thinking about all the times I had not been protected or not been able to protect myself, my son, or others. I did not know what to do. I felt paralyzed. I knew I could not kill the snake because I was too scared of it. After about a half hour the snake woke up and slithered across the yard in the opposite direction from where I was sitting and disappeared.
Now you may be wondering why I am still living in a place that on such a continuous basis scares the bejebees out of me? That is a question I ask myself many times a day from April until November every year. I have never lived in a place where I have been aware of so much danger. My innocence and naivety shock me and I yearn for the safety that I previously enjoyed.
It is all very clear to me now. I am not a native of the desert and honestly don’t believe I’m cut out for it. The desert is beautiful but foreign to my being. Oh, did I tell you about the gila monster?
When I first arrived it was November. That is the time of year when all the critters go underground and wait to come out when it gets hot again. I had heard tales of them but as yet had not encountered any.
I put my fears in the back of my mind and enjoyed the winter without the tons of snow and overcast skies I had been accustomed. I put my boxes of warm clothes and sweaters away and dealt with the cool evenings by throwing on a light jacket that I only needed sometimes. It was pleasant and I forgot totally about what was coming.
In April I began thinking about the critters after my neighbor reminded me to pay attention where I was walking. That was not a comfortable suggestion, but I took it seriously and walked carefully back to my house.
Several weeks lapsed and I saw nothing scary. I began to get my confidence back again. Not that I stopped looking where I planted my feet, just that I hadn’t seen anything unusual.
Then one day I had a complete turnaround that knocked me for a loop. The first thing that happened was I opened my friend’s gate and started to step through and saw a rattlesnake coiled and sleeping next to the gate. I quickly shut the gate and ran out back to get some help. When we came back the snake was gone. That was extremely disconcerting. Now my fears were real and no longer a myth. Now I understood about watching the ground.
I went into my friend’s house and sat down in the living room for a chat. As we sat there drinking ice tea I saw something crawling up the wall. It was pinkish-clear and shaped like the pictures I’d seen of a scorpion. I tried to be casual in asking what it was, and to my horror, it was indeed a scorpion. My neighbor killed it with her shoe and sat back down and continued the conversation as if nothing had happened.
I was shaking inside but did not want to show my cowaderdness. A little while later, I got up to go to the bathroom and as I went around the corner of the kitchen I stopped in my tracks. On the wall was a huge hairy spiderish looking thing on the wall. It did not look real until I saw it move. “What is this?” I called out. “Oh, that’s just a tarantula”, she said calmly as she grabbed an envelope, scooped it up and put it down outside the door.
I had been initiated all in one day. I was beside myself. Like all initiations, my world was turned upside down. I made my way home, knowing that I could never live where there were so many scary things that were part of a normal day in the desert.
Soon after that, a dog in the neighborhood licked a Colorado River Toad while I was there and went into convulsions. She had to be practically drowned with water rushing down her throat before she could come back to normal. It affected her neurological system and for a while she could barely walk, even after the water treatment and she foamed at the mouth for several hours.
That experience made me what I am today: an ax murderer. I was thinking about that just this week when I put my dogs out into a side yard before going to bed. Just as I put them out, a huge toad moved right in front of them. Now, I don’t know if you have ever seen one of these creatures, but they are gigantic, ugly, and strongly resemble “Java the Hut”. I whisked my dogs back into the house and went for the ax.
These toads are not fast and tend to get themselves into corners to get away from you. Because I saw that dog almost die a few years ago, I have no mercy for these poisonous toads. A strong protective urge comes over me that out weighs my fear. I held the ax high over my head and came down hard on the creature over and over until I knew it was dead.
Just the day before, as I was sitting on the porch of my house enjoying the breeze against the backdrop of a very hot day, I saw my two cats carefully moving in the same direction toward a ladder that was against the house. Then I heard the distinct rattle of a rattlesnake. I yelled at the cats to stay away, which did nothing. I started throwing rocks in between the cats and the snake. I got the cats to move away and hastely picked them up and put them in the house. The snake coiled itself up and went to sleep.
I sat watching the snake feeling totally helpless and thinking about all the times I had not been protected or not been able to protect myself, my son, or others. I did not know what to do. I felt paralyzed. I knew I could not kill the snake because I was too scared of it. After about a half hour the snake woke up and slithered across the yard in the opposite direction from where I was sitting and disappeared.
Now you may be wondering why I am still living in a place that on such a continuous basis scares the bejebees out of me? That is a question I ask myself many times a day from April until November every year. I have never lived in a place where I have been aware of so much danger. My innocence and naivety shock me and I yearn for the safety that I previously enjoyed.
It is all very clear to me now. I am not a native of the desert and honestly don’t believe I’m cut out for it. The desert is beautiful but foreign to my being. Oh, did I tell you about the gila monster?
