What are the chances?

I think this phrase quite often... what are the chances? And then sometimes, it just happens that the chances are apparently pretty good. Such was the experience of yesterday afternoon. The Disney daughter and I arrived home after a very interesting weekend in SRQ. We got home before the head of the house and the tall boy who were out to lunch after church. They had trimmed some trees in the backyard ( a project we had been talking about for months), so I was eager to see the new do's on the trees. As I went to the glass door to look out, the wonder dog came too, wanting to go outside. As I let her out, she spooked a black runner who decided that it's fastest route of escape from the wonder dog was INSIDE! In a nano second, I yelled, decided to close the door to keep it out, slammed the door and.... wasn't quite fast enough. Now I have the wonder dog outside on the back porch barking fervently at the back end of a snake and a really irritated snake halfway in the house. It looks like this..... (well, see above as I still don't know how to move a photo around...)
After about 10 minutes (seemed like a whole lot longer) of watching him slowly die a squished death, Head of the house arrived home, got a glove and escorted him to his burial spot in the back woods.
If you ever need an adrenaline rush.... this is it... though the chances of it happening ever again are... well, maybe I shouldn't say it.