Our dogs are like children to us; beloved and precious. My dog, the General, has been a source of great comfort to me over the past 11 years. He is a loyal friend and in his twilight years he is more precious to me than ever. So when he came trotting across the yard with a big snake in his mouth, bringing it to me---I had some mixed feelings. I don't like snakes very much and usually give them a wide berth; I'm willing to live and let live though.
I guess I should start off by saying that over the years I have compiled a set of survival references in my head--my own set of "what to do if...." rules. Now one of the little facts I had stored away is that, as a quick reference, most poisonous snakes in the US have a triangular head. I should also point out that I'm not the type to panic in an emergency; I keep my cool because, after all, I have spent years compiling my "what to do if...." rules.
Back to the story. The dog had ahold of a snake and was bringing it to me. The snake had a huge head and was most definitely alive. In my non-panic reaction I knew I had to get the other dogs away from it, find something to wrangle the snake, find a container to hold the snake and check the General for a bite.
The other dogs were dying of curiosity and ran to within a couple feet of Gen and the squirming, whipping thing in his mouth. I grabbed the two biggest dogs and practically threw them in the house but the little terrier, Ester, was another story...she wanted herself some snake too, and she kept dodging in toward the snake as it whipped around. So I zigged as she zagged and scooped her up, sprinting toward the house and yelling to the General "stay boy, stay" over and over. I tossed Ester in the house, turned around, and Gen was right behind me, with the snake. I'm pretty sure that if the snake had touched my leg at that very moment, I would have had a heart attack and died on the spot. I grabbed a broom and a bucket and ran off the porch into the yard calling "come on Gen, here boy" and he sprinted back to me.
The dog dropped the snake on command and I simultaneously knocked it away from him and yelled for him to get back. At this point I saw that the snake had a huge triangular head because it had a half-swallowed toad in his mouth! It was just a big garter snake! When the dog dropped the snake, the snake dropped the toad and from there on it was a matter of getting the snake safely out of the yard and finding myself some nerve medicine.
The story ends with the garter being deposited safely in the woods, the toad was tucked away into my garden under the tomato plants (I swear he looked reborn and thankful to be alive) and the dogs all got peanut butter sandwiches.
Now I know that there aren't any poisonous snakes native to the UP, but in the heat of the moment....that didn't matter. I had to protect the dogs; after all...they'd do the same for me.
I guess I should start off by saying that over the years I have compiled a set of survival references in my head--my own set of "what to do if...." rules. Now one of the little facts I had stored away is that, as a quick reference, most poisonous snakes in the US have a triangular head. I should also point out that I'm not the type to panic in an emergency; I keep my cool because, after all, I have spent years compiling my "what to do if...." rules.
Back to the story. The dog had ahold of a snake and was bringing it to me. The snake had a huge head and was most definitely alive. In my non-panic reaction I knew I had to get the other dogs away from it, find something to wrangle the snake, find a container to hold the snake and check the General for a bite.
The other dogs were dying of curiosity and ran to within a couple feet of Gen and the squirming, whipping thing in his mouth. I grabbed the two biggest dogs and practically threw them in the house but the little terrier, Ester, was another story...she wanted herself some snake too, and she kept dodging in toward the snake as it whipped around. So I zigged as she zagged and scooped her up, sprinting toward the house and yelling to the General "stay boy, stay" over and over. I tossed Ester in the house, turned around, and Gen was right behind me, with the snake. I'm pretty sure that if the snake had touched my leg at that very moment, I would have had a heart attack and died on the spot. I grabbed a broom and a bucket and ran off the porch into the yard calling "come on Gen, here boy" and he sprinted back to me.
The dog dropped the snake on command and I simultaneously knocked it away from him and yelled for him to get back. At this point I saw that the snake had a huge triangular head because it had a half-swallowed toad in his mouth! It was just a big garter snake! When the dog dropped the snake, the snake dropped the toad and from there on it was a matter of getting the snake safely out of the yard and finding myself some nerve medicine.
The story ends with the garter being deposited safely in the woods, the toad was tucked away into my garden under the tomato plants (I swear he looked reborn and thankful to be alive) and the dogs all got peanut butter sandwiches.
Now I know that there aren't any poisonous snakes native to the UP, but in the heat of the moment....that didn't matter. I had to protect the dogs; after all...they'd do the same for me.
