Something Nasty in the Roofspace

We've had a bit of excitement here this week. It started on Tuesday, when I wandered into the pantry and noticed rather unpleasant smell. I found a puddle on the floor and rather unfairly assumed that the poor toddler must be responsible, although he's pretty reliable with the potty training these days. Without thinking much of it I cleaned it up and we went out.

By the time we came back the smell in the pantry was indescribable, and there was more liquid on the floor. It dawned on me that the puddle was directly beneath the cover of the exhaust fan, which hadn't been working for a day or two.  I shone a torch on it and saw that something was stuck in the fan. Judging by the smell, i could only assume dead rat. The horror.

As I had the toddler with me the investigation had to wait for poor Mr Dog to get home from work. He climbed up into the roof, let out a strangled yell and came rocketing back down the ladder. It turns out there was a massive snake up there, right next to the manhole. Between us and the fan.

It occurred to us that it may be part of the snake trapped in the fan, and that it could be badly injured or dead. We called WIRES (wildlife protection people) who informed us that they do not, generally, bother snakes in roof spaces. Apparently it's very common and most people never know they are there. Positively beneficial, so they said - keeps the rats down. We pleaded our case and they said they'd get back to us.
We spent the night disinfecting *everything*. Mr Dog taped a plastic bag under the fan cover to catch the juices (!) and try to minimise the smell. We couldn't even think of putting anything back into the pantry until we removed whatever was in the fan, and we sure as hell weren't going near the fan while a six foot snake was guarding it.

By Wednesday morning the smell of death was unspeakable. The snake had moved a bit overnight so was clearly alive.  We called WIRES again and begged them to come and move it but they couldn't help and referred us to another organisation. I spent half an hour on the phone to a lady from Wildlife Ark who advised me that since the snake was 'only a python' and was 'never going to attack a human' we should just go up and clean out the fan, 'working around' the snake. I politely explained that this was one of the worst suggestions I have ever heard, and reminded her that it might be injured and not particularly friendly.  She said she'd speak to one of her colleagues and get back to me.

A little while later I received one of the finest phone calls of my entire life, from a chap who informed me he was Dave, The Snake Catcher. Once again I explained the situation, and reiterated that it was not the snake, as such, that I objected to, rather the obstacle it presented to removing whatever indescribably revolting object was trapped behind it in the fan.  He asked me whether the snake was close to the manhole, which I confirmed, and he gave me a piece of advice which I believe I will relish my entire life.

"Just grab it by the head", he said "and pop it in a sack".

Speechless.

Do I look like Steve Freaking Irwin?!

When I stopped choking I pointed out, in my smallest helpless-English-girl voice, that balancing precariously on top of a ladder and wrassling a six foot snake into a pillow case was not one of my dearest ambitions, and that as I was at home in the company of an extremely inquisitive toddler and a decomposing rodent I would really, really appreciate some help. He finally took pity on me and kindly agreed to 'pop by'.

When The Snake Catcher and his assistant arrived it took them less than five minutes to haul the mercifully uninjured but notably hostile python from the comfort of our roof. The toddler and I trailed them as they carried the snake down to the bottom of the property and took turns posing for photographs with the poor critter as it tried to strike at them. They said it is their policy to release snakes as near as possible to where they were found. I'm guessing it's about a seven minute slither back to the house.

The blockage in the fan turned out to be a little present left for us by our uninvited guest. The crushed, regurgitated and rapidly decomposing remains of a small ring-tailed possum.

Come for dinner, anyone?