The two girls were not alone. The younger of the two was holding out a Ballpark Frank to Martha, who was coiled prettily on the kitchen table. The elder girl was rummaging around in the refrigerator, found what she was looking for and then gravely offered a KFC chicken leg to Martha, who demurely accepted it. The chicken leg began a slow march down Martha’s throat and the younger girl said, as she once again offered the frank to the snake, “Think we can keep her?”
Martha accepted the proffered snack and if anything looked hopeful that a place could be found for her. The older girl, her bright red hair framing a sad expression, shook her head. “Nah, you heard Doris. That Jerry’ll want her back.”
The three now good friends regarded each other tranquilly while the faint song of a siren became audible, the Toledo EMTs making their way across the equally tranquil causeway of the East Yaquina slough, the natural incidental music of a modern wild kingdom.
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