First Copperhead on the Loyd Place

Disclaimer: If you've been reading about our

copperhead experience on Facebook, you won't

find any new photos here.  I've consolidated the

pictures and one video here, along with some

explanatory comments.

The story begins.

Last Friday, about 4:00, Jennifer was picking

up her kids at our house.  We had played all

over the property with Claire and Evan, including

in the garage.  After they were buckled in their

seats, Jennifer, Judy, and I were still chatting in

the driveway, when we noticed that Kitty Cat

was in attack mode in front of the garage.  We

assumed the target was a lizard.  But when I saw

him repeatedly attack, then leap back, I knew he

had found a prey that was fighting back.  When I

approached I heard a tell-tale vibrating in the leaves.

No, it wasn't a rattlesnake.  But I knew of two snakes

that mimic that sound to scare away predators (or

sometimes to lure their own prey closer).  It was

either a black rat snake (my favorite) or a copperhead

(beautiful but deadly).  When I saw the distinctive

pattern on its back, I immediately knew it was the 

latter.  I had to frighten Kitty Cat away, and was 

just hoping he had not already been struck by the

lunging pit viper.  I strode to my tool shed and 

grabbed a shovel.  The cooperative copperhead

had stayed put.  I plunged the shovel into his body

about one-third the distance back from his head.

He was pinned to the ground and couldn't get away,

but he wasn't yet dead.  With my family still a safe

distance away, I went for my limb loppers.  My 

captive couldn't escape as I clamped the loppers

just inches behind his head.  He still wasn't dead.

At this point I did another power plunge with

the shovel and severed the body.  I knew the

head could still bite and kept a safe distance.

The jaws were actively opening and closing and

the fangs awaited an opportunity to deliver their

toxic dose.  He never got the chance.  I read that

most copperhead bites occur when attempts are

made to kill or capture.  Normally, I am reluctant

to kill most forms of wildlife (notable exceptions:

ants, moles, mice, roaches, mosquitoes, and flies).

I realize that all God's creatures play their part in

the complex web of nature.  But to the extent possible,

I'm determined to keep our environment safe for me,

Judy, Kitty Cat, and most of all, the grandchildren.

Within ten minutes after Jennifer and the children

had departed, I had dug a shallow grave and deposited

the still-writhing reptile in it.  Video is included at the

end of this blog.

This is the severed front end of the copperhead.
He could and would still bite at this stage, even
without use of his better half (so to speak).

Here's the rest of his body.  I estimated the length
at 28 to 30 inches.  Typical adult copperheads can
be about three feet.  

I reassembled him purely for your viewing pleasure.
A taxidermist I'm not (biology lab convinced me I wasn't
 enough of a perfectionist to pursue a surgical career).

This closeup of the head shows the distinctive color
which gives it its name.  That copper is a different
shade than the various hues of tan and brown that
make up the impressive camouflage bands.

This video shows that my victim did not

go quietly to his grave.  His Latin nomenclature

is Agkistrodon Contortrix.  While an article said

that contortrix refers to his twisted pattern, my

video (which might give my more squeamish

friends nightmares) suggests the contortions of

his death throes would make it an apt name.

By strange coincidence, I was wearing the snakes

of the world shirt pictured below on that day. If

brave Kitty Cat had not detected our visitor, at great

peril to himself, the copperhead would likely still be

a potential threat.  There may be more, but it was the

first poisonous snake we've seen ON our property in

35 years here.  So with this scary episode over, we

will proceed with caution.  Our property supplies many

of the ingredients of perfect copperhead habitat: 

compost pile, woodpiles, leaves, small rodents and 

birds, and old rotting stumps.  

I hope you enjoyed my latest snake stories.

I don't suppose I'll ever run out of them.

Snakes seem to be attracted to me.