When you open your front door and find this fella stretched across the welcome mat, you stay inside a little longer. Like I did the other morning. Although the two of us have known each other for several years and occasionally meet in my backyard, never once has this eastern black racer ventured onto my porch for a visit. And he stayed a while as if he owned the place, enjoying the views and checking out my wicker furniture before slithering off the back steps into the bushes. Now in most situations I’m a friendly person, but southern hospitality has its limits. From day one I declared my porch a snake free zone, and I refuse to make an exception for him.
What are your snake hospitality limits—welcome or no visitors allowed?