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Way back in the fifties, when the only good snake was a dead one, it was late one night when the publican's daughter shouted, "Everybody come and look. The cats are killing a snake!"Another time a friend found his dog barking at the kids toy box on the verandah - and out slid a cobra.
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There were two cats. One was a grizzled old tabby and the other was a pure white Persian , bigger than a kitten but not yet fully grown.
They had bailed up a large Eastern Brown on the concrete path just outside the kitchen door.
The snake was drawn back in striking position. The cagey old tabby was crouching to one side and the young cat was dancing provocatively in front of the snake.'Suddenly the snake struck at the young cat which floated up into the air leaving the snake fully stretched out beneath it. The old tabby lunged forward and bit the snake just behind the head then withdrew. The snake recoiled and the young cat landed and began to dance again.
This was repeated three times so it was obvious that the cats, working in unison, were fully aware of how to fight a snake.
At this point, quite a crowd had developed,shouting and moving about and the frantic snake made a dash for the wood box beside the kitchen door. Everyone agreed that it would be lethal to leave a wounded and angry snake in the wood box where some unsuspecting person might encounter it so one by one the billets of wood were gingerly removed, At last a piecce of the snake could be seen, Someone placed the muzzle of a .22 against the target and pulled the trigger. The snake shot out of the wood box and disappeared into the long grass. No one was drunk enough to follow it.
The next day crows led us to the remains of the snake which, if not harrassed by the cats would probably have just continued hunting the mice and frogs that proliferated in that precinct.
Still, the chances of a drunk using that path which led to the toilets stepping on the snake and getting bitten were enough to convince everyone that the cats were an asset.