My Encounter with a Snake: What I Didn't Know About Crotalus Horridus

About a month ago, I was walking our recently paved road through this temperate jungle in central Alabama. With my toddler asleep on my back and a cane in my hand for protection against wild dogs, I trudged the same route I take almost every day. From about 50 yards away, I noticed a strange stick lying across the road. It had to be a stick, because it was just too thick to be a snake, right? Maybe that's why it's called a timber rattlesnake.

As I got closer, the object's shape became easier to make out. It was thinner on the ends, quite large in the middle, and six feet or more in length. It held it's head slightly off the ground, lying perfectly still. I identified it as a rattlesnake by the shape of its head and body, but the rattle had apparently broken off (which is common in older rattlers;) only a nub remained of what was once probably a trophy of a rattle. The only rattlesnakes I am familiar with being native to this area are Timber Rattlers, so I guessed that's what it was. Later research identifying the zigzag pattern would later prove me correct. I also fancied this was either a pregnant female or had just consumed a large meal. If the first guess was accurate, that would explain why I began seeing little baby rattlers a week later.

Most people in these parts prefer killing snakes to sharing land with them, but I was taught to respect them as fellow creatures - with some exceptions. The large version of Crotalus Horridus I encountered was incredibly laid-back. After a nudge from my staff to get the fellow off the road where it would have most likely been run over, it just slowly slid off the side and into the woods. No hissing, no shaking of the tail, no quick movements. Contrary to what I was told as a child, it didn't move when it felt my feet approaching. Neither did the little ones.

The next meeting I had with Crotalus Horridus was in juvenile form about half a mile closer to home. Like the adult, it was strangely calm, even after being poked at a bit by a stick. Once again, I ran it off the road (because anything that eats a rat in these parts is a friend) to protect it from oncoming traffic. No big deal. I've always had a bit of a heart for the no-legged people, except maybe water-moccasins. They have a tendency to be more disagreeable than most. When I was about eleven, my nephew and I had a copperhead we would feed small Bluegill to when we were fishing. He would poke his head out from under a rock and we would throw him a small fish. He, in turn would give us a nice show of how a snake swallows its food whole and go back to his lair, leaving us to our business. I had the same respect for the baby rattlesnake. After all, he's part of the landscape here, right?

Two days later my oldest son met me returning from a jog.

"Mama, Mama," he exclaimed, "There's a snake on the sidewalk next to the house! I think it's poisonous."

Sure enough, it was a baby timber rattler, the same size as the last. The difference was that it was on my turf. I have a child under two that I would kill all the snakes in existence to protect if necessary. And there was a report of a toddler in Georgia being killed by baby rattlesnakes, though I was unable to ever find it documented. I grabbed a pickax and decided the serpent had to go.

Upon reaching it, I hesitated. It isn't my nature to kill something unless I have a good reason. And while I feel protecting my baby from snakes in the yard is as good as any, the little snake was so easy-going, I just couldn't bring myself to do it. I touched the tip of its tail gently with the axe to get it to move, but it hardly stirred. I placed the flat underneath its head and upper body and lifted it slowly. It let me carry it a little way with no protest, then decided to slide off and just rest where it landed. We continued this exchange past the property line, where I admonished the little guy to keep its distance. But I was amazed at how easygoing it was. And not one of these snakes had so much as rattled at me.

This episode inspired some more research, so I got online and looked up several sites for local rattlesnakes and Timber Rattlers in particular. What I found was as surprising as the snake's behavior. According to the New York State Department of Environmental Conservation, these animals are docile, slow to strike, and prefer to stay away from humans. In addition, they have been slaughtered en masse to the point that they have been listed as endangered in Connecticut, Massachusetts, New Hampshire, New Jersey, Vermont, and Virginia, while considered threatened in New York and Texas (humane society www.hsus.org.) They are protected under the law in these states, but enforcement is difficult. And their numbers, even in the South have fallen through the destruction of habitat.

But that's not all they have going against them. Though the young are born basically live, they are easy prey for hawks, badgers, king snakes, racers, foxes, owls, coyotes, etc. Females have to mature at least seven years before they are able to breed, and even then may have years between breeding cycles (especially in colder climates.) And if that's not enough of a challenge for survival, they are slaughtered en masse via rattlesnake roundups and various den raids while at their most vulnerable, usually hibernating or pregnant. The result is lower and lower numbers of a valuable member of the ecosystem.

According to herpetologists, timber rattlers more complex creatures than one might think. They prefer to return to the same dens of their ancestors, and have been observed following scent trails back to the home den for hibernation (Brown and McClean 1983, Reinert and Zappalorti 1988.) They stay out of the way of humans if possible, but even if confronted are slow to strike. One of the interesting things about these snakes is that the adult snakes have the capability to strike without injecting venom. According to the Wisconsin Department of Natural Resources, "...up to 60% of all poisonous snake bites to humans are 'dry,' containing no venom." Newborns, however, don't have this much control, so use special caution with the little guys.

Since then, the weather has cooled off and there have been no more sightings of the species I feel got the wrong Latin name. We have been vigilant to keep the grass cut and our eyes open when the little ones are out, but the no-legged people have been good to keep their distance. If the large snake I came across in the road that day was the mother of the babies, I wish long life to her and her kin. We share the same Creator. And I've come to the hopeful conclusion that my offspring can coexist with hers.

Dennis Jensen Herald Staff. Vermont Rattlesnakes Barely Holding On. Vermont.bestfriends.org. (Aug. 25, 2007)
McClere, Jeff. Timber Rattlesnake - Crotalus Horridus. www.herpnet.net
Rubio, Manny. Rattlesnake: Portrait of a Predator. Smithsonian Institution Press. Italy. 1988
Weidensaul, Scott. The Belled Viper: Even Hunters of Timber Rattlers Admit that these snakes are shy, placid - and very fragile. Smithsonian. 28.n9(Dec. 1997):pp96(10)
http://herpcenter.ipfw.edu/index.htm?http://herpcenter.ipfw.edu/outreach/accounts/reptiles/snakes/Timber_Rattlesnake/index.htm&2
http://www.cites.org/eng/cop/10/prop/E-CoP10-P-63.pdf
http://www.dnr.state.wi.us/org/land/er/factsheets/herps/timber.htm
http://www.acris.nynhp.org/guide.php?id=7536
http://files.dnr.state.mn.us/eco/nongame/projects/consgrant_reports/1992/1992_keyler_nolocations.pdf
http://www.scsc.k12.ar.us/2002ArkNatHist/Projects/JeffersE/Timber%20Rattlesnake2.htm
http://www.hsus.org/wildlife/a_closer_look_at_wildlife/snakes/rattlesnakes.html