A Snake in the Yard

Growing up, I lived pretty much out in the boondocks. (Queue music, "down in the boondocks....") I lived in a single wide trailer with about two acres of land. Part of that land was fenced off for our two dogs, Susie and Ginger. Well, not too long ago, Susie passed away and it got me thinking of the many amazing things about her. Susie had an uncanny ability of finding snakes anywhere in her yard. She would then bark a very high pitched bark, signaling that it was time to get the shovel because there was a snake in the yard.

To truly understand this story, I have to fill in some background information. We lived in Oklahoma for most of my life and I always had this fear of finding a rattlesnake in my yard. In the 10 years living there, I had yet to even see a rattlesnake, but nonetheless, the fear was there. Well, every time Susie would bark her "there's a snake in the yard" bark, I would run following my dad with his shovel, while he went to take care of it.

I would always yell, "Is it a rattler?"

Every time, I would get the same response, "Nope, just another king snake."

Then my dad would proceed to pick up what was left of the snake, and toss it over the fence. This happened hundreds of time at our little, country trailer. One night, though, it went a little differently. Be sure and picture this in your mind as it is happening.

It is just past sundown, and we hear the snake bark coming from the yard. As usual, dad goes to the back porch to get the shovel with me trailing along behind him. He goes down the steps and into the dog's yard as I wait safely on the porch while he approaches the snake.

As usual, I shout, "Is it a rattler?'

Before my dad has a chance to answer, he starts swinging at the striking mystery snake. About the third swing in my dad shrieks, drops the shovel, grabs his knee, and starts jumping up and down. Panic took over at that time as I sprinted inside yelling, "Dad got bit by a rattler! Dad got bit by a rattler! Mooooooom!"

Of course my mom is panicking by this point as we both run outside to check on my dad. Imagine our surprise when we see him walking calmly to the back fence to throw the snake over the fence. When he gets back on the back porch, he looks at us strangely and says, "What in the world is going on?"

We were pretty surprised and relieved to find out that my dad had not, in fact, been struck by a rattlesnake, but that he hit himself in the shin with his shovel while swinging at a king snake. Boy was that a relief. This has been a great story to tell for a long time, and I am sure that will not be the last time I freak out about something that is not really as it seems.