My personal rule with venomous snakes is that if they are in an area with a good likelyhood of coming into contact with people or pets, they die without a second’s hesitation. Out in the wild, live and let live...
I grew up in western Ks. Our rule of thumb was, if you see a rattle snake, kill it. Don’t know a person there that had a different philosophy. In the 20 years I lived there I probably killed a dozen.
Knew two people that were bit by them. Both survived but one guy nearly lost an arm.
I know a lot of people with that same philosophy and I totally get it. I just figure they were put here for a purpose just like any other critter - except for tarantulas. I hate the fuggers. Instant death sentence no matter where they are!
Tarantulas??? Come on.
What state are you in?
I hate the fuggers with a passion. I’m a northerner since transplanted to NM. Never had to deal with any till I moved down here a couple years ago. Snakes don’t bother me in the least BTW. Even the venomous ones.
Being from Texas, and an outdoorsman, and dog man, I've dealt with a few snake bit dogs and have had some scarey close calls.
Just last night for some reason I remembered one. First time too, I thanked HIM for letting me make it home 2 miles away all those 48 years ago.
The ones a mile from a road or 30 miles from town are a lot more dangerous than ones around town, actually.
I do my best to keep people from having bad days.
I’ve told this story before. Back in the 80’s I was stationed at Ft. Hunter Liggett, in southern Monterey County. About 25 miles from King City, CA. I was doing a stint as the battalion commander’s driver. He didn’t get out of the office too often so most of the time I hung around with the Command Sergeant Major’s driver and would shoot the Schit with them in his office.
The CSM had a husky named Dusty that was sort of the battalion’s unofficial mascot. I had a lot of down time and to kill the boredom, I used to like to take him out for walks around the battalion HQ’s area. We were literally out in the middle of nowhere out there. A lot of wildlife, including rattlers. This one particular day, I was holding on to his leash as he was going about his business near some bushes. I heard a buzzing sound and as it caught our attention, he dove head first into the brush before I could pull him back.
I heard him yelp loudly, as he jumped back and began rubbing his face into the dirt. I got a hold of him and his face started to swell like a balloon. I looked toward the bush and heard and saw a small Pissed off rattler all coiled up and ready to strike again right where Dusty had stuck his head.
I killed the snake and brought Dusty back inside. By that time his head had swollen up like a cantaloupe. I was Schitting bricks when I told the Sergeant Major what had happened, but he barely even looked up from his paperwork and said “Don’t worry ‘bout it. He’ll be fine. It’s happened before.” I couldn’t believe it. I was freakin out but he barely seemed concerned at all. He assured me he’d be fine. Told the dog to lay down in his bed in a corner of the office and that was that. I thought for sure Dusty was a goner, but sure enough, in a couple days he was good as new and you couldn’t even tell he’d been bit.
I think that’s when I really lost a lot of my fear of being snake bit. I honestly was never really too concerned about it to begin with, but I think that experience really cemented the fact in my head that it’s not an automatic death sentence like a lot of people seem to think. Don’t get me wrong, I know they’re dangerous, and they’ll most likely make you sick as hell but it’s pretty rare to die from a snakebite. At least in North America.
