Yesterday afternoon Mike saw two snakes – a bull snake and a rattler – down by the barn and advised me to watch my step, reminding me that by the first of July rattlesnake season is in full swing. He really doesn’t have to remind me. My dad read me the rattlesnake rules every year – very simple but important rules: Watch your step and stay out of tall grass – and always be careful in the woodshed.
My dad was passionate on the subject of rattlesnakes. He saw them as a lurking danger and was probably afraid of them -- maybe with good reason. He never let a rattlesnake live if he could help it. “You stay here and keep an eye on it,” he would say as he rushed off to get a hoe. In Daddy’s eyes it was important to kill them. Many people kill them.
Over the years my library of snake stories has become quite voluminous. One day when Milo and Clinton were probably four and two, we were visiting at the house in Orofino. In the course of the day, Daddy ran an errand to the farm in his little white Ford Courier. When he returned to the house, he called the boys to the pick-up and lifted a rattlesnake with a pair of huge tongs. (What do they call those things anyway?) He spoke to the boys earnestly, his voice quivering, about the danger of rattlesnakes and the need to take care whenever on the farm. I wondered what the two little boys were thinking. Their eyes were big as saucers. Milo might have been impressed enough to remember. Clint would have been too young to remember.
When we first began to come here, we also killed any rattler we found. Then one day Mike asked, “Why do we kill them? They eat rodents.” So, we let them slither off and certain conservationists applaud us. We certainly see plenty of them. It doesn't seem to be an endangered population.
As we walked down the lane on our practice hike yesterday, I spied a rattler in the road ahead of us. Sensing our approaching presence the rattler slithered off into the grass while warning us. Walking on down the lane, an unmistakable rattle caught my ear. I stepped back and checked; sure enough another rattler – a small one – was coiled in the grass beside the road. Then on the return to the house, Nellie disturbed a rattler in the grass. I heard it and she responded obediently to my urgent call. Nellie had an unfortunate encounter with a rattler when an adolescent and has a notched tongue as a result, but we still have to remind her to leave snakes alone. KW
5 comments:
Even I have snake stories! Mom and I were working on the farmhouse one day and found a rattlesnake right near the house. We cornered it in a relatively safe manner and I chopped its head off with a hoe. I really thought it would take more to chop his head off but it came off quite easily.
The other story is about Dad, a snake, a barbecue, a refrigerator, and a snack. Maybe I shouldn't recount that one...ha ha!
How about the snakes in the outhouse. There were two of them. I didn't ask them what they were doing in there. I haven't opened the door to the outhouse since. KW
I have seen many rattlers at the farm. There was at least one den of them along the rimrock on the west side of the farm.
One day, when Christy was a toddler, she went down toward the barn, and came back with the story that she saw a snake, and "he stood up and looked to me right in the eye." That was close.
As far as I know, no one was ever bitten there at the farm. I think we were protected.
Yes, I agree about the protection. Wisdom is protection, and Daddy certainly aimed that we should all be careful. Mike identified those we saw yesterday -- the smaller as a Prairie rattler and the other a Northern Pacific -- both subclasses of the same species. Most of those we see are Northern Pacific. Hallie alludes to Mike trying to eat one. He says that was one that Nobie cornered down at the barn and it had three mice in it. That's when he quit killing them. He also thinks they are beautiful animals.
That Christi story -- As I recall, she said she saw a chipmunk and he stood up and looked to her. As we listened to her description we were horrified to realize it wasn't any chipmunk and that she'd had a close call with a rattler. Daddy looked for it but couldn't find it. I have seen them slither right down the gopher holes; they can be gone in a flash.
Nellie and Major were both bitten. There's nothing they can do for the dogs. They don't feel good for a while; you keep them quiet and wait it out. Nobie was leary of them -- and funny to watch. For instance, she wasn't sure but what a piece of chair webbing in the yard was a snake. That chair webbing held her attention for hours. KW
I remember Dad deep-frying a rattler cut up into 1 or 2-inch pieces at the Dobson house in Orofino in the 70's. It was bony like a fish, but with very little meat as I remember.
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