The other morning while out for a walk with the dog, a friend of mine pulled over in her car on the way to work. After waving hello, she called out “Did you see that snake back there on the road?” I walked over to her, mentally wondering if it was dead or alive, a firm grip on the dog just in case. Together we went to look at the snake, which was beautiful and very much alive slithering across the road.

Respectfully keeping our distance but at the same time trying to urge the snake towards the safety of the field, we tried to work out what type of snake it was. I took a photo on my phone and, after discussing various options and watching it slide effortlessly into the long grass, we parted ways, each going in our separate directions to work.

Upon arrival at the office, I mentioned my morning’s incident (being the countryside, such things generate greater excitement importance than perhaps they might elsewhere).  However, Stephanie miraculously pulled out an Audubon Guide and triumphantly announced that the snake was, in fact, a Milk Snake. Furthermore, according to the book’s description, Milk Snakes were so named “based on the absurd belief that it milks cows, taking prodigious amounts of milk in the process.”

Bizarre mental images aside, the irony of a cheesemonger finding a Milk Snake was not lost on me. Hmmmm. Now, I just need to find a willing cow….