There’s an old saying: “You don’t really know someone until you marry them.” I can attest that this is true.

My beautiful wife, Priscilla, and I have been married 43 years. We have three children and eight grandchildren.

When I married Priscilla, she was a cute, petite girl who in every way perfectly fit her nickname, Miss Priss. In time, however, I learned she had another side.

Years ago, our neighbor purchased about a dozen chickens. At the same time, we invested in a new azalea bed. Every day, those chickens waddled over to our yard and scratched around the roots of our azaleas, killing them one by one.

I called the neighbor several times and visited him twice at his work. Each time, he promised to cage the chickens, but he never did what he promised.

One evening after I got home from work, my young son Brandon tugged at my coattails and said, “Mom shot the chickens with your .22 rifle.”

“How many?” I asked.

He replied “All of them.” With a sparkle in his eyes, he added, “ Mom killed two with one shot!”

I rebuked Priscilla, saying, “You can’t go around killing your neighbors’ animals. You could go to jail!”

Defending herself, she replied, “Well, I did it. Now, they won’t be killing any more of my azaleas.”

Soon, I became an accomplice by burying the evidence. We never heard a word from the chickens’ owner, and the only reason I am sharing this story is that the statute of limitations is in effect.

On another occasion, Charlie, our eight-pound Maltese, was playing while Priscilla was working in the yard. Suddenly Charlie yelled out in pain, ran up the hill and collapsed.

Looking down the hill, Rebecca saw a large snake coiled and ready to strike. She ran down the hill with hoe in hand and quickly cut off its head and put it into a Ziplock bag.

Charlie began to have seizures and was very close to death.

Priscilla, Charlie and the snake’s head rushed to our veterinarian’s office, where she learned that Charlie had been bitten twice by a copperhead. Through Dr. Bardales’ quick action and our prayers, Charlie survived with no ill effects and still acts like a puppy, even though he’s now 12 years old.

When I married Miss Priss, little did I know her other side was Annie Oakley.

However, it has its advantages. If I am ever awakened by someone breaking into our home, I’ll just roll over, punch Priscilla and ask her to take care of the problem.