Gardening with the Cat, the Snapping Turtle and the Snake

My husband, Mark, wrote this in a letter to my mother.  

While we were gardening in the backyard, we were joined by all three pets. Garfield, our tabby cat, was perched on the landscape timbers at the other end of the yard. He was watching his favorite dirt spot being converted into a usable tomato patch. Cats hate change, and I could see this was another unapproved change.

Tank, the snapping turtle, was sun tanning next to his swimming pool. Having consumed a cod filet last night, he was speeding along his digestive tract. Turtles are cold blooded and need the heat to digest their meals. Unlike his wild counterparts, he is calm around my presence, and has been transported from his indoor tub to the outdoor pool thousands of time. He doesn’t mind the transportation process. And when he wants to eat, he comes to the surface, making eye contact. Then we retrieve the trout, cod, or tilapia, cutting it into small pieces, and float the pieces down to his mouth. When the fish approach his mouth, he makes a snapping motion, pulling the morsel into his maw.

And thirdly, Shredder, the 55” bullsnake was sunbathing beneath a Dorfman Pacific Outback Hat. He would poke out his amber speckled head, and allow the heat to radiate down his length. After an hour and a half of hide and seek, where he was mostly hiding, he decided to seek out other terrain. He crossed the front yard, poking his nose in the grass, looking for a rodent hole. Finding none, he was a bit perplexed. Where there’s grass, there are always rodent holes. It's instinctual. Then he was relocated to the backyard where he slithered the length of the landscaping timbers. He was one happy snake. By the way, Jeanie named him Shredder. His hidey hole box had the word  “Shredder” labeled on it. It had been labeled for the shredding of bank and investment documents.