Around the Bluhmin’ Town

By

Judy Bluhm

Choices. Every action has a consequence. Sometimes, we are forced to make a quick decision. If you see a large, Diamondback rattle snake in the middle of a country road, that you are walking on with your dog, do you run, fight or hide? Okay, so that is a military saying, but if you are faced with imminent danger, a little military strategy could come in handy. The viper was stretched out across a narrow dirt road sunning himself. I was about twenty feet away when I saw the slumbering giant.

The quiet lane in Skull Valley was fenced in on both sides with four-strand barbed wire. Not enough space between the strands to squeeze through and too high to jump over. I thought about just tiptoeing around the tail of Mr. Snake since there was about four feet of clearance. But then I recalled reading that snakes hear your footsteps and can swirl around and strike. And I wasn’t about to walk in front of his head. My dog, Teddy, would probably want to fight this serpent. Hmm, maybe we would start running at breakneck speed and just jump over the rattler and keep on going.

A recent Gallup poll of American adults revealed that most people – 51 percent – fear snakes. And a third of all adults worldwide have ophidiophobia, an abnormal fear of snakes. But statistics regarding fear of snakes do not matter when you are faced with one lying in front of you. Fortunately, snakes do not care to interact with humans. Guess the feeling is mutual then.

There are tens of thousands of reported snake sightings and relocations that happen annually in our state. Worse, there is an estimated 300 reported rattlesnake bites in Arizona each year. Most bites are on hands and fingers, when individuals try to catch, handle or kill the snake. Don’t do this! Lifting rocks, hiking, and “not being aware of surroundings,” are the contributing circumstances. Oh, and walking through tall grasses in flip flops is highly discouraged.

I had a horse named Baxter who was not bothered by snakes. One time we were riding on a trail and a rattler lurched out in front of the group I was riding with. A few horses side-stepped and there was a moment of chaos, with riders trying to control their horses. But Baxter just stood still like a statue, waiting for the storm to pass. He was patient.

While walking with my doggy on the lane shaded by towering Cottonwood trees, I just stopped and let Teddy sniff at the fenceline. He was curious about the big black cows that were grazing in the pasture. There was a pile of horse dung on the road that interested him.

I thought about that ride and Baxter. What would he do now? I stopped, looked around and admired the scenery and then looked back at the snake, as he wriggled away into the brush.

My path was clear. I strode past my fears, determined to practice patience with cold-blooded confidence. Dear Readers, in the face of danger, keep calm and slither on.

Judy Bluhm is a writer and a local realtor. Contact Judy at [email protected] or visit www.aroundthebluhmintown.com.