SNAKE!!!!

About two weeks ago, my daughter-in-law Esther was cleaning out the flower beds at the front of the house near Bryan, in Brazos County, that she and my son Jimmy bought last Thanksgiving. My grandson --her little son-- two-year-old Noah, was playing beside her.

As Esther reached to pick up some of the old plant growth from winter, something bit her on the hand, right at the side of her pinkie finger. Seeing a grayish snake hanging to the side of her hand, Esther flung it away and realized she had been painfully bitten.      

Esther, a very calm and level-headed person, knew Jimmy was at work at Nucor Steel, a full hour or more away, so she called her sister Ginger for help. Thankfully, Ginger was home in Normangee and came to the rescue, rushing Esther to St. Joseph's Emergency Room in Bryan and taking care of little Noah.

 Esther had called Jimmy, and he was on his way to the hospital.  By the time Jimmy got there, Esther's hand was swollen and blood tests determined the snake that had bitten her was poisonous. Esther became very ill from the snakebite, stayed three days in the hospital, and had severe swelling and several rounds of anti-venom before she was well enough to come home. 

Two weeks later, Esther is doing better, but still not feeling all that well. All of us still shudder when we think about how close a call it was for Esther, and that little Noah had been right beside the snake, too, and neither one of them knew it.  

Leon County, Madison County, and Brazos County have always had their share of poisonous snakes, most commonly the copperhead snake. More than likely, that is the type of snake that bit Esther, as the young copperhead is a grayish snake with a yellowish tail. (Somehow, I don't think Esther was really trying to see what was the color of the tail of the snake that bit her!) 

If copperhead snakes can't get away from danger, they "freeze", and as long as you don't get too close or grab them, they remain motionless, and most people never know they're there. The copperhead doesn't slither away immediately, as most snakes do. Perhaps they think since they were there first, YOU should be the one to leave. I know one thing, I won't argue with them over space--they can have it!

In the early 1970's, my husband and I and our two children---(Bobby wasn't born yet!)--- moved to Hilltop Lakes, Texas, a resort city, to run the Racetrack and manage the Horse Barns. For almost twenty years, Hilltop Lakes hosted Quarter Horse races, officially sanctioned by the American Quarter Horse Association. Even though the track had a very short pull-up turn, it was one of the best places to run Quarter Horses in Texas, and we saw many racing legends, both horse and human, right there at Hilltop.  

Noah Powell, my husband, had ridden as a jockey at Hilltop Lakes and won quite a few races. A Hilltop Lakes Quarter Horse Race Meet had been the destination of our first real date away from home. Noah had also raced there when he was a racehorse trainer, so it was a dream-come-true to be able to live there and run the track. At that point in our lives, we lived and breathed horses.

 Time proved Hilltop was a wonderful place for our kids to grow up, as well as a wonderful place to live.  We ended up also running the Hilltop Lakes Riding Stables, Hay Rides, and the Cracker Barrell Gameroom. For several years, we had a small family grocery store --Powell Grocery--located in part of the Cracker Barrell, of which I was Owner/Operator.  

Being cowboys and cowgirls with a passion for horses, we rode almost every day at the Hilltop Lakes Rodeo Arena. One evening after riding,  I rode Snip-- one of our most gentle and trusted horses-- into the hallway of one of the big twenty-five-stall covered horse barns.Riding in front of me in the saddle was my little son, Jimmy, then about three or four years old.

 I usually rode up to the door of the tackroom, slid Jimmy or Jon Marie, my daughter--both very good riders for their age--off onto the ground beside the horse before I dismounted. Just as I started to let Jimmy slide to the ground, good old gentle Snip began having a fit and rearing up, putting my head into the rafters.

 Looking down, I saw a huge copperhead snake, coiled and  ready to strike, right where Jimmy would have landed! Reining Snip away, we galloped back to the arena and told Noah, who came and killed the snake, which had not moved at all. My son, Jimmy, is now forty, and I still thank Snip--dead these many years--for watching out for us that day.

In the early 1980's, I ran our little grocery store and Noah was head honcho for TIPCO, an Oklahoma City-based oil company. We still ran the Horse Rides and I was usually the one that fed all the rent horses. One evening, I was feeding, and in the hallway of the big barn was a motionless copperhead snake, coiled, with his head up about six inches in the air. I walked all around the snake for several minutes, peering closely, but there was not a sign of life---not even a flicker of an eyelid!

Figuring that Noah's oilfield crew was playing another practical joke on me, I wondered how in the world those guys got that "dead" snake to keep it's head up like that! Laughing, I decided to throw the feedbucket at the "dead" snake. When the bucket hit it, that "dead" snake came alive! I ran one way--screaming at the top of my lungs-- and the snake--not "dead" at all-- ran the other way!

It is funny now, but could have been deadly, due to my ignorance, as I got stupidly close to a snake I thought was "dead!"  I now have a lot of respect for the copperhead snake which "freezes" when in danger. I bet that snake had a real story to tell, too!