Rattler, Here

In the thirty-plus years we have lived at the Boggy Thicket, we had never seen a Rattlesnake. 

We are home to lots of snakes – some Copperheads, a Cottonmouth or two, hundreds of nonpoisonous snakes of various species - but never a Rattler until yesterday.

I’ve mentioned before that Honey walks several miles every morning.  {This past week she averaged almost 4 1/2 miles a day for five days in a row.} Sometimes I join her, but even if I do, I never walk as far.  When she got back yesterday she asked me to go out to the street and identify the dead snake at the end of our driveway.

It was, in fact, a Diamondback Rattlesnake. It was just over  four feet long, and about as big around as my arm. 

Whoever had run over it had done an exceptional job.  Its spine was broken about eight inches down from its head, and about eighteen inches of its belly had been split open and laid out flat like a science experiment.

Most interesting was the fact that the last four inches of its tail didn’t seem to fit.  It was narrow, out of proportion, and it was dark brown – almost black – with no visible markings. The rattles were tiny, almost vestigial.  They consisted of only two sections and were so small I had to look closely to be sure that’s what they were.

Unlike some lizards and geckos, snakes are not capable of regeneration, but  it almost looked as though that Rattler had lost the last few inches of his tail and was growing it back.

I was bent over, lifting the tail up with a stick to get a better look, when a horse in the pasture across the street snorted.  I had no idea that I could still move that fast.