Snakebit
Waldo has become a permanent fixture, regular as clockwork, appearing somewhere draped along the stone foundation of the barn, east side, as the sun rises warm in the mornings. Lately, there is also Waldo Junior, only about 18 inches long compared to a good 26 for W Senior. The larger partner also likes to coil in a tangle of taller grass that grows around a tree stump about six feet from the barn wall. Every day we go for a walk, the dog goes around the western, ground-hog inhabited side of the barn. He's not seemed the least bit interested in the snakes. Until yesterday.
In the warm afternoon sun, Waldo left his grassy cover and was sprawled full length in the short grass between the pasture and barn. And so their meeting was thus inevitable. The snake was just lying in the sun reading a book. He wasn't interested in playing, but Tsuga would have it no other way. When the snake retreated into his hiding place down beside the stump in the tall grass, the dog proceeded to follow him, digging furiously. We gave up trying to pull him off or lure him with treats. He was determined to find Waldo. We left him while we cut grass, worked in the garden and such.
A hour later, while the dog was striking an Orvis pose on his bed in the house, I noticed a red patch in the armpit area of his front leg. Inspection revealed a single puncture wound. I see the two of them finally met.
Waldo is a brown water snake: ill-tempered and capable of a nasty bite, but non-poisonous. Even so, Ann is convinced that the dog is not acting right. I awoke at 2:30 this morning to visions of Florence Nightingale as the silhouette of a kneeling human form administered antibiotic ointment to the dog's leg (which he promptly licked off). And this morning before his breakfast, I've been directed by the local pharmacist to give the dog a dose of Doxacycline, just in case.
The pup does actually seem a little mopey this morning. But I think he's just depressed, getting a painful bite when all he wanted to do with his new friend was play around a little. It will be interesting to see how he reacts the next time he happens upon Waldo and company. Hopefully, this close encounter will make him less eager to play tag with legless playmates. But then again, Tsuga may carry a grudge and want to even the score. There are a few weeks before the cold sends the snakes to winter shelter, so there will very likely be another installment of this story. Stay tuned!
Comments
Oh Fred. I'm not sure Tsuga can turn that part of his brain off... my brother's dog could never avoid the temptation to go chasing porcupines, even though the result was EXACTLY the same each time. (And the vet's bill, per quill, too.)
Posted by: Pica | August 16, 2004 9:50 AM
Poor Tsuga, pups do tend to learn their limits the hard way. Harley stuck his nose on the side of a cast iron casserole I was removing from the oven. He lost a little patch of nose leather, but fortunately it didn't scar and he gives the stove/oven a wide berth.
I've always given our cats the hot stove lesson by touching a paw to a warm hob, not hot enough to burn or hurt the cat but they get the idea and avoid the stove and counters on either side.
Posted by: feste | August 16, 2004 3:27 PM
Poor pup -- I hope Tsuga's feeling 100% tomorrow. Perhaps this experience will breed enough caution to keep him safe in case he ever runs across a poisonous snake.
Posted by: BethW. | August 17, 2004 12:23 AM
I hope he's learned his lesson. I haven't heard of dogs here dying of snakebite....I think they give them a wide berth. Cats on the other hand have been known to catch them and release them in the most inconvenient places (ie baths where they can't escape). I remember Mum removing one with a pair of BBQ tongs from a bath as she couldn't bear to kill it. This was a brown snake - highly venomous. Hopefully your snakes aren't quite as lethal as ours.
Posted by: Jenny | August 17, 2004 5:38 AM
same with Skunks. Jay got skunked 3 times in a week. In the end i stripped to my shorts, held onto a garbage lid as a shield and dispatched the poor skunk.
I still feel terrible about this murderous act but it seemed to me that the alternative was dealing with a skunked jay every other night. He would not learn and was too attracted to the hunting aspects of the relationship.
Posted by: Robert Paterson | August 18, 2004 8:16 AM