Alligator Annie

 Alligator Annie

I learned long ago alligators are part of the Florida landscape. I know they live in any and every body of water around. You may not see them, but they are there. I respect them, but I don’t fear them. Understand…I don’t necessarily like them either. They’re sort of…I don’t know…prehistoric looking.

Am I going to knowingly swim alongside a five-foot gator? No. Will I still swim in a lake or river or spring where they may or may not be? Sure. I don’t bother them and they don’t bother me. Most “alligator incidents” happen when people don’t respect them or go places they ought not be going.

That said, this past week, Mike and I were outside. I was on the dock and had a piece of rope in my hand, the end of which was dangling in the water. A small alligator…really small…swam over and, intrigued by my dangling rope, opened his mouth and took a big bite. Well, not exactly a bite. He sunk his teeth into the knot on the end of the rope.

 

I squealed and Mike came running.

Mike is very brave.

 

Mike is very brave. As I held the rope, my sweet husband reached over and grabbed the little guy right behind his head. (I started to say “around his neck,” but I’m not sure on an alligator where the neck starts or if there actually is a neck. It’s more like one long scaly critter from snout to tail.)

I digress.

 

The gator let go of the knot. I ran to the house for the boat key and my phone. Yeah, well, I had to get a picture or two, right?

Mike bravely let the boat down with his free hand, eased it out into the lake, and steered it with his left hand. All the while, he held the small creature safely beside him.

 

Me? I sat facing them. Like I said, I’m not afraid of alligators…much. I simply figured it was prudent to not turn my back on him. And besides…what if Mike needed me suddenly to… steer the boat or call for help, or something?

 

As I look back on it…I was being very brave, too. And I will admit it was kind of exciting. 

We didn’t go far, but there is a grassy area in our lake near a small island with trees. Mike let the little guy down into the water and he swam away. I think he will be much happier in those wetlands away from our house.

I thanked Mike over and over and told him how proud I am of his heroic actions. “Hey,” he said, “you caught him.”

And truth be told, now that the gator was nowhere to be seen, I felt much braver. 

It was a sort of Crocodile Dundee moment. So I pulled out my middle name and now call myself “Alligator Annie.”