The Gardeners Anonymous Blog

The Baby Rattlesnake Bite Debate.

  My leg after being bitten by and adult rattlesnake

Before I was bitten I had a heated debate with my mechanic about the dangers of baby rattlesnakes versus adult rattlesnakes. 

Hello, adult snakes are bigger—that would mean bigger venom sacks—a lot more venom. His argument was that baby snakes can’t control their venom output, in other words they don’t give dry bites. 

Every time I spoke to my mechanic, he would be in possession of my car. He would also be in the process of calculating my invoice.

So, I bit my tongue more than once during The Baby Rattlesnake Debate. 

One day he pulled some lame information off the Internet that stated baby rattlesnakes were considered more dangerous because when they bite they cannot control the amount of venom they release. 

He held a printed copy in my face and said, “Here, this copy’s for you.” He placed the copy on top of my invoice and handed it to me. I took it with little emotion and reluctantly said, “Thanks.” I turned and walked away rolling my eyes.

There are two problems with this “baby snake” argument.

First, I think we all know that people on the Internet don’t always have their facts correct.

Second, it wouldn’t matter if a baby rattlesnake released all the venom it had, they only carry a tiny amount in their tiny little venom sacks in their itsy bitsy heads.

Then, lo and behold, I was bitten—and at the same time I was enlightened on all things rattlesnake. My mechanic never saw me during my recovery and I never said a word. I’m too cheap to argue with him. 

But now I’ve got the facts from the experts.

12 Things I Learned After Being Bitten By A Rattlesnake

Baby Northern Pacific Rattlesnake

While in the hospital recovering from my bite, I did a lot of snake thinking and learning. 

I became freakishly drawn to snakes. I read about them. I watched TV shows about them. I spent hours lying in bed with my laptop perusing the Internet for snake facts. I spoke to other snakebite victims. I spoke to snake experts. I spoke to snake bite experts. It was almost as if I was becoming a snake.

When I thought of swallowing mice whole, my mouth would start to water. 

And although my life hasn’t changed much, I still hike the same trails and do all the same things—maybe with a little more caution.

What has changed is that I know a heck of a lot more about snakes, what happens when you’re bit by one, and what to do when you’re bit by one, than I did a year ago.

One of the first things I learned was that rattlesnakes don’t necessarily rattle before they bite you. Their first line of defense is to blend in with their surroundings. Many people who are bitten either step on a snake, like I did, or the accidentally put their hand on a snake. 

It usually takes a serious threat to cause them to rattle—like a giant size 9½ running shoe crushing down on them. 

Here are some things I learned that you should know:

“This is my friend who was bitten by a rattlesnake.”

Northerern Pacific Rattlesnake found a hundred feet from where I was bitten.

This is how I am introduced to people, one year later.

I was contemplating a title for this article. My girlfriend came up with “The Girl Who Stepped on a Rattlesnake.” We nixed it because, in her words, “It makes you sound too stupid.” So I went with our second choice.

For my snakebite anniversary I decided to go back to the scene of the crime and do what I was so rudely interrupted doing last year.

lupin

That was—taking a picture of wild lupins in the exact spot where, while I was adjusting my camera lens, I stepped on a Northern Pacific rattlesnake. This time, of course I would be oh-so-much-more-careful and watch where I place my giant size 9 ½ gunboats. 

I brought my dog along. My dog was also bitten by a rattlesnake the year before I was. She was also with me the day of my snakebite. I went to my girlfriend Jacqueline’s house at the trailhead: She’s the same friend who called 9-1-1. She came along with her dog. 

The day was very much like the day that I was bitten, same type of weather, same time of day. We walked and talked about the day I was bitten and how nervous I sometimes feel and how silly it is to be nervous because we both know that I am a member of an elite club. I mean, you are more likely to be struck by lightning than bitten by a venomous snake. 

Besides, I’m much more careful now. It is about this point that Jacqueline puts her hand on my arm. I stop in my tracks. She points at the ground I have almost stepped on a small snake with brown markings laying across the trail—I freeze.

Suckers: A lot like teenagers.

 

 
There are at least three suckers on this plant. They are taller than the other stems. They have no flowers buds at the ends and they are a lighter shade of green.

I am not referring to the kind that play roulette, buy lottery tickets —or buy pieces of the Brooklyn Bridge. I’m talking about the suckers that develop on rose plants. 

What are suckers?

Suckers are stems that form on the vigorous rootstock that your roses are budded (or grafted) onto. Since the rootstock is often so much more vigorous than the cultivated rose that piggybacks it, the sucker will soon rob the cultivated rose of it’s food supply.

If that’s not clear enough, look at it this way: Suckers are like teenagers, they grow really tall really fast, they suck all your energy, exhaust your food supply and they don’t produce—My teenage son gave me permission to write that description.

  The leaves on this sucker have six leaflets but they usually have seven.

With the exception of miniature roses, moss roses, and some modern roses, most of the roses in your garden can get suckers. When your rose is planted, the rootstock should be below the dirt level, but if the rose is planted too high or there is some erosion then your rose can sprout suckers. Suckers can also be caused by damage to the rootstock. They usually start out unnoticed and grow so fast that it will seem like they just suddenly appeared.

The suckers are easy to distinguish from the cultivated stems. They have seven leaflets and the stems are usually very thorny. The foliage of the suckers are ribbed and lighter green than the regular foliage. They rarely produce flowers.

Some gardeners say you should twist them off, instead of cutting them. I cut them because I have had so many thorns go through my gloves, and I don’t want owies on my fingers.

I cut as close as I can to the plant.

If you don’t want to twist them off, or cut them off, but you want them gone, simply drive them to the mall and give them a credit card that is almost to it’s limit and a cell phone that’s low on batteries and tell them you’ll be back in a few hours.

I didn’t ask my son’s permission for that one.