With the temperatures jumping up into the 90s after a lot of winter rain, our yard has exploded with wild grasses, blossoms, allergens, and just bushiness everywhere. Our plans were to try to cut back and clean up as much as possible so that we wouldn't step on a rattlesnake. Only my leg still isn't working for me, so my husband has been having to do all the work. I gimped around trying to clean up manure for the farrier while he moved from stall to stall in an effort to follow the shade while he trimmed hooves. Then I bathed the dogs and took each of them one by one out onto the porch to air dry.
Midge had to go to the bathroom, so I put a leash on her and walked her down the back steps. We wandered until she found the perfect spots to do her business, and when we turned around to go back up the steps to the porch, we found ourselves blocked by a three and a half foot long Western Diamondback. Crap.
This happens to me every spring! I waltz down the stairs with a dog and pass just inches from a rattlesnake head. I see it on the way back to the steps, and learn my lesson. Then I spend the next 11 months leaning down at the bottom of the steps to make sure there isn't a snake hunkered down by the wall before stepping off the last stair. But, by the 12th month I get comfortable because there never is another snake in that location, so I just walk right on down without checking, and viola! There's a snake.
So, I walked Midge around the side of the house away from the snake and waved to my husband through his office window. He came to the front door and I told him that a rattlesnake was blocking us from getting up the steps to the back door. He got his homemade snake hook and a tall trash can and caught it to relocate it.
It went left and I went right, and then it tried to curl up and hide under a bush next to my porch. I was frantically trying to get Midge unhooked from her leash and get her in the house before the rattlesnake decided to come up on the porch, and the dang clasp wouldn't come undone. I was cursing, finally yanked it off, scooped the dog up in my arms, and hopped into the house.
While my husband was out there, my other two dogs needed to pee too. I decided to take them out front, but it was too late for Scrappy. He already peed on the floor. In the snake mayhem, I didn't have time to put Scrappy's diaper back on after his bath. While my husband was carrying the snake in a trash can out into the desert, I was scrubbing the carpet. Between the urine and wet dog smell, I was glad we had the ceiling fans running full force.
First thing he said when he got back into the house was, "It smells bad in here."
Yup. Spring is in the air.