Tuning in to Warning Signs

From the horse barn in Southern California

I don’t like snakes. The last time I encountered a live rattlesnake was in 1993 on Skyline Drive in Virginia; it was gigantic - at least 3 ½ feet long - and only 2 feet away from my then-six and nine year olds. Today’s experience was less frightening, but no less of a warning.

I was grooming Jet outside the stalls, with Laurel watching eagerly for her time to get attention, ears flickering back and forth, rubbing her face against the stall door and doing an inordinate amount of snorting. This is usual behavior when Mom gets attention and daughter feels slighted.

Jet, the Mom, was calm as usual as I brushed her coat and then got the tangles out of her mane and began on her tail. She stiffened and I thought maybe she was listening to the dogs barking in the distance, or the crow cawing in the nearby trees. I ignored it and she repositioned herself, backing up a little bit. She was no longer in her relaxed pose.

Laurel kept looking over to the other side of the barn, where the hay is stored and was a little bit uneasy. Again I ignored it.

The gardener walked up to the barn and in Spanish got my attention and pointed to the floor of the barn where a rattlesnake was not more than 12 feet from us, moving toward the hay bales in the back (where, until now, I reached with bare hands three times each day. Sure enough, the horses had noticed the snake and I had not.

I was really curious and had to see it up close.  He held it down with a shove while I inspected. Beautiful markings.  It was clearly a rattlesnake, but a small one.  He used the same shovel to keep it from bothering us again.

Again in Spanish, the gardener explained that he had found “dos mucho grande” snakes at another time. Knowing I did not understand his language, he held up two fingers to indicate the number, then stretched his arms apart to indicate the size and pointed to a place in the barn behind some equipment.  I made a face that made him laugh, while all I could think about was that I will use gloves to pick up hay from now on and be more attuned to where I am putting my hands and feet.

I also made a mental note never to go to the place where the dos big ones were extracted. And, I will listen more carefully to the horses, who knew danger was at hand and were trying to tell me.