With a nod to @MsM and @Bluey’s tales in the goat —> bleat —> meat thread, as well as to Indiana Jones, let’s talk about snakes, which terrify me for really no good reason.
Many years ago, I was the 3rd of a four stall co-opt barn. The square barn had two stalls on each side with a feed/tack room on the end. Each stall had a water bucket in the back corner with a short hose and spigot to access the central plumbing. It also had a former tenant who spent the summers with us. HA loved to curl up around the spigots on hot summer days and hang out. It didn’t take long to learn to check before you grabbed the “hose” to make sure it was green instead of snoozing black snake. HA (aka heart attack) was used to people and tolerant of the occasional time when the rushing or zoned out human touched him.
We all learned to get along and as a bonus, we never had mice problems. The horses had the same attitude. I must confess that HA jump started my heart more than once. I will take snakes over black widow spiders in the corner any day!!
5 Likes
I don’t have any particular care about snakes one way or the other. My mother and sisters have a paralyzing fear of them though.
So our story would go something like this:
Sister one: “SNAAKKKKEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!”
Mom: “SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEECCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!”
Sister 2: “AGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!”
Me: “Oh, that’s just a little snake…”
5 Likes
Once I was in my barn’s tackroom with the door opened, and an approximately four foot long rat snake (non-venomous, they can be six feet long, and are fairly thick-bodied) crawled in, climbed onto a wall and quickly began moving diagonally across it, several feet off the ground above the floor.
We have an all metal, MD barn with smooth walls and, until this happened, I had no idea that a snake could defy gravity and slither across the relatively slick wall surface, and at such a brisk pace! I attempted to dissuade the snake from coming further into the tackroom with a broom, which only served to a) increase its speed, and b) encourage it to let loose a foul, musky odor.
I retreated, leaving the tackroom door open, and the snake must have taken its leave at some point, because I never saw nor smelled it again.
edited for typo
4 Likes
I just posted this on the other thread but this guy/gal was around for a week or so and helped me clean. I have no problem with snakes. I think they are beautiful and they serve an important purpose. That said, I would rather not meet a venomous snake face to face but the majority are harmless to us and useful.
image
ha
image
This one resided at the last barn I was at.
Susan
Snakes don’t scare me 
The only one I’ve seen on my farm was a baby garter snake my barncat was playing with.
I thought it was a twig, until I reached down & it morphed into snakeshape 
No venomous snakes in my area, so I grabbed it & flung it to safety.
Many years ago, I was at a party in Knoxville, where guests were asked to leave their shoes on the back porch.
As we left, I noticed everyone shaking out their shoes before putting them on.
When I asked why, I was told snakes 
1 Like
Oh, no, no, no, no, no. Noooooo. #No
4 Likes
I get along with snakes OK, in fact I’m The Chosen One who gets to chase the occasional Rattlesnake off of the trail on club rides. “Sigh. Please hold Georgies reins for me.” And I find a suitable stick and convince Mr. Snake that it would be more comfortable elsewhere. No Worries.
I had my XL Thoroughbred gelding “Oily” (RIP Oil) out in The Garden of the Gods park (in Colorado Springs, CO) several years ago, and we came across a good-sized Rattler basking in the middle of the trail. Oily jumped about 6ft straight backwards. It took a little (well, maybe more than a little) coaxing to get the big boy to walk on past the angrily buzzing apparition, but he did so for me. I’m sure it was my calm demeanor that made it happen; The Big Oil never liked snakes.
A foto. Note the displaced dirt from his reverse launch:
3 Likes
@Kyrabee, I’m sweating as I watch these. Literally sweating. It’s kind of a sick thing: Ooooo, how long can I look at something that frightens me this much!
When I was growing up I spent summers at a supervised municipally owned playground in what passes for mountains in New Jersey. The place – the whole area, which happened to be my neighborhood – was crawling with cooperheads. They sunned themselves on the concrete steps that led to the water hose. (We drank from a hose. Those were the days.) We tended to get water as a group, and it was the job of the kid first in line to check for snakes first. This was completely normal. You had to tell new kids to watch out for the snakes. The animals were shy and no one was ever hurt. But they startled me every time because they blended so well with the stones in the concrete.
This was the '70s, that era of American history known for a million potential tort claims and zero plaintiffs.
3 Likes
No outrageous stories. I quite like snakes . Though when these two rat snakes started spending annual summer vacays in our chicken house I nearly had a heart attack when I opened the nest area, expecting to see eggs, and instead saw a snake! I know them now and look for them each year.
Milk snake on the wash rack. Cute little guy! I learned that when non-venomous snakes feel threatened they’ll take a defensive position and their head can resemble the diamond shape common in venomous snakes.
We had carpet snakes in the roof of our house.
Mum had a floating ceiling put in, this was basically large foam tiles slid into runners.
We heard a thump one day.
A carpet snake had caught quite a large possum and was hanging diwn through a now broken foam tile. About 1 metres of snake showing.
It fell into an arm chair. All coiled around to fit. Every time it took a bite of the possum the whole snake turned over somehow.
After it finished it meal. Some neighbours pushed it outside into the rain with a broom.
3 Likes
And then, no doubt, put the kettle on.
4 Likes
The rat snakes here can get HUGE. The first one I saw after we moved in had raided a bluebird nest and was coming down the pole. Its tail was still in the birdhouse when its head touched the ground!! I went inside and googled “escaped python”. They are constrictors, but they are native.
This one was irritated at being evicted from the chicken house for eating eggs.
110621_5445 by Wendy, on Flickr
1 Like
I like snakes, and have since I was pretty young. We lived in northern New Jersey for quite some time when I was growing up, and there was a nice brook running through our yard. It was full of garter snakes.
My mother was terrified of snakes. My sister and I caught one and put it in a bucket in the garage, with a piece of cardboard on top. The snake, of course, immediately exited the bucket. My mothers bright shiny new Pontiac Tempest convertible was parked in the garage with the top down. She didn’t drive for weeks because she was sure the snake was in the car and would start twining around her ankle while she was driving.
We actually found the snake (or maybe just a snake) under the garage door, and set it free. My mother started driving her car again.
I found a garter snake in my house in the 90s, in the middle of a very cold winter. It was below zero outside, so I put it in the insulated garage, not wanting to condemn it to death in the snow. I had a mouse problem in the garage, but the mice all disappeared that winter. In the spring, the snake left to live outside.
Fast forward to 2003, and I moved to acreage so I could have horses at home. Our daughter had the whole walkout basement for her living space. The sliding glass door to her patio didn’t seal well, and she had an endless parade of garter snakes in her bedroom in warm weather. She got to be very good at catching them and putting them outside. Finally, DH replaced the door to the patio, and the snake visits stopped.
I’m sure I’ve told all these stories here before, but they are perfect for this thread.
Rebecca
4 Likes
I do NOT like snakes, but I’m willing to coexist warily with those outside. But the topic of snake stories reminds me of one that my mom told.
She had recently married Dad, and they were visiting his parents on a Sunday afternoon. The whole extended family was there, and everybody was sitting out on the porch, an official state pastime in Georgia. Around a dozen people all told (large porch). Dad’s youngest sister Carolyn, roughly 15, got up and went to the outhouse.
A few minutes later, the outhouse door banged open with a vigorous thud, and Carolyn emerged at her best waddling sprint, her pants down around her ankles. She ran across the yard toward her parents yelling, “SNAAAAAAAKE!!! SNAAAAAAAAKE!”
Grandma stood up and commanded, “Carolyn, pull your pants up!” Nope, Carolyn was oblivious, continuing her high-speed waddle toward the house and safety. “SNAAAAAAKE!” Grandma continued to call back. “Carolyn, you stop and pull your pants up right now.” “SNAAAAAAKE!!!” Carolyn waddle-ran straight to the porch, hopped up the steps, and stopped right in front of Grandma – and 10 other relatives, including several adult men. “SNAAAAAAKE!!!”
Grandma grabbed her pants from around her ankles and tried to start pulling them up, and Carolyn abruptly realized that she was standing here in front of her full extended family half naked. She turned red clear to her personal half and waddle-bolted through the door into the house. Grandma followed her. All of the men, of course, were laughing their heads off.
Mom always said she felt sorry for Carolyn, but she had to laugh herself as she told that tale years later.
1 Like
In some parts of the world, it could be scorpions.
3 Likes
Yep, I always always shake out my footwear of any kind. When I change indoor shoes for outdoor boots to go throw hay, I check my indoor shoes after I return, even if it’s only been minutes. After getting out of bed, I check my bedroom slippers. It’s a habit.
Have never seen a scorpion in a shoe, but my husband was once stung by one hiding inside of his glove.
What a perfect way to sum up that wonderful era of my childhood!
5 Likes
I’m a wildlife inspector. Literally. I inspect imports and exports of wildlife and wildlife products to confirm that the imports/exports are legal.
There are a lot of animals and products that require permits. The permits list the allowable quantities so when I do inspections, I count animals/products to make sure the permitted number is not exceeded.
I had just pulled the first bag out of a crate in one of the warehouses when a new manager walked by and jokingly asked, “What are you looking at? Rattlesnakes?”
I gently dumped the bag of ball pythons into the tub I use for counting them and started to tell him what species I was looking at but I was drowned out by his screams. (I can’t remember how many snakes were in the bag – it was either 25 if they were babies or 10 if they were adults.)
The poor guy had no idea that I was, in fact, looking at a shipment of live snakes. As it turns out, he has a real phobia of snakes. A bit problematic for him, given that most of the live reptile shipments come through his warehouse.
He now heads rapidly in the other direction when he sees me or my coworker coming into the warehouse. 
(I have no idea what his opinion of arachnids is but I probably shouldn’t tell him that many of the shipments I inspect in his warehouse are owned by the same guy who owned the baboon tarantulas that got loose in the cargo hold of a plane at a different airport: https://www.upi.com/Odd_News/2015/09/25/Escaped-tarantula-grounds-Delta-plane-overnight-in-Baltimore/6921443200727/ 
)
1 Like
