Martha was rinsing dishes one evening when she saw what she believed to be a small snake slithering around her kitchen sink. Panicked, she trapped it under a glass and called the local wildlife rescue. The vet arrived, expecting a routine snake retrieval. However, upon closer inspection, his face blanched.
He stared at Martha, his voice trembling. "That's not a snake; it’s far worse."
Martha looked at veterinarian George, whose face looked pale. “What do you mean it’s not a snake?” she asked, her voice filled with fear. Her hand trembled as she pressed the glass down, feeling the “snake” moving around inside it. George searched for the right words, not wanting to scare Martha even more. Suddenly, he grabbed his phone and began to walk away. “Keep your hand on the glass. I have to call someone!”
He walked out of the front door, leaving Martha alone, struggling against the “snake’s” strength. It really wanted to get out from under the glass, and Martha had to do her very best not to let that happen. With the size of this thing, she was sure one bite would be enough to kill her. Her heart raced as she waited… and waited… and waited…