Last week I bragged about our resident king snakes and how they eat other snakes and had cleared The Five Acres of Pygmy rattlers
So, imagine my disappointment a couple of days later when a Pygmy rattler went a-slithering across the driveway.
This is a mistake he will not repeat, thanks to a compelling blow rendered by a 10-year-old, but it clearly points to dereliction of duty on the part of the king snakes.
As you recall, a five-foot king snake found temporary shelter in our garage last week.
Typically, the only snakes I like are either dead or in another county, but a few years ago I came to appreciate a six-foot king snake named Rex who rid the place of the Pygmy rattlers that used to be such pests.
I had heard stories about king snakes, but thought they were merely rural legend, like the stories Grandma Blansett used to tell about hoop snakes and joint snakes.
Grandma was born in rural Tennessee in 1893 and kept many of the ways of her people. She believed that one could cure earaches by blowing smoke over a spoonful of warm milk into the offending ear, for example.
She also believed one could cure snake bites by cutting open a black chicken and sticking your foot in it. She never explained how this might help if the bite was on your hand or wrist, but I am sure she would have treated a question about it as doubting the effectiveness of rural medicine.
As to the hoop snake, she said it was a creature to be feared. If you were walking through the woods and encountered a hoop snake, it would chase you by biting its tail, thus making a hoop and rolling in pursuit.
Once the hoop snake got within range, presumably by picking up speed on a downhill straight-away, it would let go of its tail and fly like an arrow at its prey. A joint snake was less aggressive, but a
A joint snake was less aggressive, but a serious threat nonetheless. If you killed a joint snake, chopping it into pieces wasn’t good enough. You had to take a piece and lock it inside a steel box, or else the snake would reassemble itself after dark.
Fortnuately, as I discovered, the king snake stories were more factual than the ones Grandma told. King snakes really will clear a place of other snakes.
I assumed the king snake from a few days ago was a descendant of Rex’s come to take over the family business, so to speak, so I telepathed to him that I was happy to see him and that he was welcome to all the other snakes and rats that he could eat or carry.
Clearly, Descendant of Rex is not as diligent as Rex Himself, who would not have tolerated a Pygmy rattler showing himself in broad daylight.
So, I now frown in the general direction of the new king snake and remind him that I have a long-handled hoe in the garage.