One of the things that’s totally different here in America compared to the Netherlands? The wildlife in my backyard Jungle.
The day we got the keys to our (for now) American home, the owners insisted on giving us a quick wildlife survival briefing. Very comforting, I know.
We have a small cat, a British Longhair named Pip. She can be a real bitch to humans, but with her fluffy fur and innocent face, she always looks ridiculously adorable. My daughter can do anything with her—cuddle her, carry her like a baby—and Pip just meows, slightly offended but compliant. The rest of us? We’re absolutely not allowed to do anything that’s not in her daily agenda.
So, back to the wildlife.
The owners warned us about the hawks. Huge ones. They regularly swoop through the backyard, and it would take them zero effort to snatch Pip away and end her royal lazy lifestyle in the most un-princessy way imaginable.
Of course, we don’t want that for her. Most of the time.
So: “Be careful putting Pip outside. Don’t forget,” they said. “We can handle the hawks.”
Okay, sure. Hawks. We got this.
Then they casually dropped, “Oh, and there are snakes too.”
Sorry, what?
Apparently, there are “good” snakes and “bad” snakes. The “good” ones are non-venomous—like black rat snakes, corn snakes, racerbacks… you name it. They’re fast, they’ll bite if scared, but they also eat all the critters you don’t want near your house.
Then there are the venomous ones. These bite and inject poison. Like the water moccasin. You know, the one that hangs out near water.
Fun fact: we have a pond next to our house. So that’s comforting.
Then the owner’s wife added, very casually, that once she was sitting on the patio and found a massive venomous snake under the couch she was literally sitting on.
Like… why?
Why did I need that mental image in my life?
Anyway, time passed, and we never saw a single snake.
Until that day.
A beautiful summer day.
I was video calling with my mom, minding my own business, and casually walking out to the patio to throw something in the dumpster. I wasn’t paying attention. At all.
Suddenly, I heard this loud ssssssss and saw something black moving towards me.
It was, of course, a huge black rat snake.
I have never moved faster in my life. I bolted back inside, locked the door, and collapsed at the dining table.
Told my mom I was staying right there.
She, obviously, couldn’t stop laughing after seeing me leap and scream like some cartoon character on caffeine.
Once my nerves settled (a bit), I decided to heroically guide the snake off the patio.
It found a little hole in the wall, and I found a big plastic bag with—of course—an American flag on it.
Perfect.
I used a long stick to shove the bag into the hole.
That bastard is not coming back.
Then again, I’m probably not going back on the patio either… but the snake doesn’t need to know that.
Anyway. I survived.
We also have tons of little lizards—Pip’s absolute favorite toys.
I, on the other hand, am not a fan. They’re beautiful and super helpful—they eat all the small bugs—but Pip prefers to drag them inside like they’re her latest gift to humanity.
I’ve rescued a few (some alive… some not). Sorry, lizards.
Then, at the end of summer, my husband found a black widow spider near the big tree in our backyard.
And later… in the garage.
I will never go near that tree again. Or the garage, frankly.
And that’s not all.
We’ve seen foxes, jackals (yes, really), and apparently, there’s a mountain lion wandering around somewhere.
But the worst are the fire ants.
Tiny evil creatures.
Step on one by accident and the whole colony attacks you like it’s World War III.
I hate those little assholes.
And no—we’re not getting chickens.
They poop everywhere, and all the predators will come over for a nice buffet.
No. Thank. You.
Oh, and alligators.
Yes.
Almost ran over one on our way to the supermarket.
Once, my husband had a brilliant idea to do a little Freek Vonk (Dutch biologist) impersonation near a “Don’t feed the alligator” sign.
He was convinced there was no gator nearby.
So he got out of the car and started narrating a wildlife vlog for the kids. I was filming, naturally.
Then I saw it.
A massive gator.
Watching. Waiting. Staring at my husband like he was the next course.
I may have shouted a little louder than necessary, “GET UP THE SLOPE NOW!”
Thank God he made it back with the car keys.
That gator was the biggest I’ve ever seen.
So no, I will not be going on any serene canoe trips anytime soon.
Hard pass.
Ironically, we drove over five hours through the Smoky Mountains once just to spot a black bear…
Saw nothing.
What I do love? The birds.
We’ve got hummingbirds—tiny, magical creatures with those delicate wings—and the red cardinal, North Carolina’s own beauty. That bright red color? Stunning.
Oh, and have I mentioned the sea life yet?
Shark teeth?
Yep, we’ve found plenty on the beaches. The kids love hunting for them.
We’ve also spotted dolphins, sea turtles, rays, and yes… jellyfish.
I’m trying to live like the locals—calm and unbothered.
But for now, I still check under the bed. And the couch. And the toilet seat.
One day I’ll relax.
But for now? I’m just surviving
