Ok, some of you won’t believe this is a true story. All I can do is tell you that it is, that sometimes truth really is stranger than fiction, and ask you to believe.
Let’s set the scene. The patio at our home is large area, covered in natural slate. It faces east with a grand view of Black Mountain in the desert community of Scottsdale, Arizona. It’s a covered patio with two doors, one off the kitchen eating nook, the other off the library that adjoins the master bedroom. At the south end, the patio forms an L and moves out from under cover.
We keep the patio neat and uncluttered. The main patio houses an outdoor eating area, table and chairs, and two potted plants for decoration. The L is home to the outdoor grill, a broom, a poop scooper and a dog’s water dish. It’s a large dog dish, purchased six or seven years ago for our Golden Retriever. The big dog passed on last holiday season, but we kept the water dish for our daughter’s little lap dog. The dish is blue plastic formed to create an outer base that holds the inner bowl about an inch off the ground. On either side are half-oval holes two inches across at the base tapering up to form the half oval and used as handles to lift the dish when it’s full.
A couple of weeks ago I posted an article in which I confessed to talking to the rabbits that frequent our back yard, and one in particular which I call Newbie. In the late afternoon, with evening approaching, last Friday I was enjoying a cold beer on the patio. Newbie was there. S/he appears most often in the late afternoon. As usual, Newbie was grazing on the grass just off the patio as we “talked”. Relating some disappointment with the state of the human species and allowing that humans were not nearly so civilized as they let on, Newbie was working hir way toward the L.
Perhaps three feet from the L, Newbie turned and ran, settling into the dirt rabbit bed s/he had scratched out beneath the lounger in the grass just off the north end of the patio. I looked over at the L and saw nothing. Newbie was stretched out and fully relaxed in hir “bed”, and I paid no more attention. Shortly after Newbie settled in, my wife came out. I told her about my conversation with Newbie. She laughed and announced that she was intent on hosing off the deck. As she picked up the hose, Newbie moved to a neutral corner of the lawn (rabbits don’t like overspray from hoses). At the same time, I got up and moved toward the house (I don’t like overspray from hoses either).
Now when either my wife or I hose off the deck it is our custom to pick up the water dish, empty it, rinse it out and refill it with fresh water after hosing off underneath it. As I went to the door, I stopped and told my wife that Newbie had acted spooked near the L and suggested that, instead of picking up the water dish to empty it, she tip it over with the broom handle. As God is my witness, I have no idea why I made the suggestion. In all the years with the water dish it had always been picked up by the openings on the side to empty it without incident.
Shortly after going into the house and sitting down to watch some vapid talking head discuss the political trivia of the day, I heard pounding on the window. As I came around the corner where the window was in view, my wife stopped pounding and began pointing to the patio yelling “Snake, snake.”
I moved to the patio door in the eating nook, opened it and stuck my head out. Sure enough, there it was. It wasn’t a big snake, about two feet in length maybe an inch or two less. After a few seconds of observing the snake I gave my wife the best advice I could think of at the time, “Keep your distance. It’s a rattlesnake.” Then I pulled my head back inside the house and closed the door.
As background, mature diamondback rattlesnakes are not usually aggressive unless they are cornered or surprised. However, younger snakes are far less…Oh, wait! No, I didn’t abandon my wife to deal with a rattlesnake on her own. I was barefoot and went into the house to put shoes on before going out to assist…Anyway, while mature diamondbacks are not generally aggressive, younger snakes are far less predictable. The toxicity of the venom is the same, making younger snakes more dangerous than larger mature snakes. You learn things like this when you live in the desert.
Snakes do not have keen eyesight, but they are extremely sensitive to movement and particularly to vibrations in the ground. My method for dealing with the little vipers comes from the golf course where virtually all my prior snake encounters have occurred. I stand a safe distance behind them, 15-20 feet, and use something to pound on the ground creating a vibration that snakes seem, in my limited experience, to move away from. My preferred implement is a 3 iron, but any club that you have in your hand at the time will do.
After chasing the snake from the yard, my wife and I had a lengthy and spirited discussion reliving the excitement of her experience. She had gone to empty the water dish. As she bent down to pick up the dish, she remembered what I had said about Newbie being spooked. She thought about just picking up the water dish anyway, but decided at the last second to knock it over using the broom handle. The rattlesnake was curled, head raised in a striking position, when the water dish was tipped over.
Which brings me to the moral of the story. Don’t ever stop talking to the rabbits; you never know when you might learn something important.
Part II, reflecting on the lessons learned from this experience, may be forthcoming.
[Author’s Note: Well fine, Newbie didn’t actually say that about humans, but the rest of the story is true.]
Cross posted at Elijah’s Sweete Spot.
Contributor, aka tidbits. Retired attorney in complex litigation, death penalty defense and constitutional law. Former Nat’l Board Chair: Alzheimer’s Association. Served on multiple political campaigns, including two for U.S. Senator Mark O. Hatfield (R-OR). Contributing author to three legal books and multiple legal publications.