S.O.S

One thread that is woven brightly coloured through the cloth of just about every year of my life is the walk in the woods. I remember so well my adventures that way as a child when everything in the woods world was new and exciting, even the little critters that I more or less take for granted now. I had few worries in such walks. My only fear then was that of being bitten by one of the much-dreaded, poisonous Massassauga rattlesnakes, the only dangerous snakes in the area. This fear extended to my initial reactions to many harmless garter snakes, and, even more, the water snakes that looked something like rattlers, and could swim – that was certainly a very scary concept to me.  No one had ever told me that snakes could swim! I probably wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it myself. This discovery while paddling solo in a small canoe had led to nightmares one time of a swimming rattler jumping into the boat with me. If a snake could swim in the water, perhaps it could jump out of it as well.

But now Massassauga rattlesnakes are endangered. I do not need to worry about them anymore, nor feel the cold touch of fear when any kind of harmless snake crosses my path or can be seen when I am swimming or even canoeing.  

 I do support efforts to help endangered animals. I sign a lot of petitions asking to help save this or that species, especially the reptiles. I have signed petitions and donated money to help the spotted turtle, the Blandings turtle, the eastern spiny softshell and the wood turtle, and our only native lizard, the (now not so) common five-lined skink. But I’ve never seen one such petition about saving those other reptiles, the Massassauga rattlers. There are none such that are labelled with acronyms such as S.O.S – Save Our Snakes, or R.O.R – Rescue Our Rattlers.

           This is my story that explains why I want to change that now.

A Walk in the Woods

I thought that morning, as I woke up early and alone, that I really needed to walk in the woods that day. So I got all my woods-appropriate clothes, all my gear ready and headed out early, coffee mug full, hot and in my right hand protected by an old leather glove. As often as I do this, I still feel that just about every time I go to the woods I have a different experience. I somehow knew beforehand that this day would involve a story that would be unique. I felt it in my aging bones.  An adventure was about to happen.

The first aspect of the walk in the woods that I love is the quiet. The city where I live is so loud, so many conflicting noises that enter and rebound inside my head like metal marbles, the only kind of marbles that I would like to lose. When I was in the woods in the day of the story, the quiet could almost be tasted and savoured like a good British beer on a hot summer’s day.

After a while, though, I thought it funny, that is funny strange, that I did not hear any of the small familiar sounds of little critters scrambling through the woods that I usually experienced. The literally deadly phrase that too readily came to my mind was, ‘as silent as the grave.’  I thought initially that I might be the one causing it with my presence in the woods.

It was not long afterwards that I could hear and see the scurrying of small animals coming in my direction – squirrels, chipmunks, possibly woodchucks, and a rabbit or two. So, I thought, it was not I who was the source of the quiet. That thought made me very nervous and a little afraid. What could be causing this? I would soon find out.

The Showdown

I like to go to the local zoo. On one of my most recent visits to that wonderful establishment, there was one animal that struck a chilling chord of fear when I saw it. I had never seen it in my walks in the wood, and I never wanted to. It was the cougar. It paced back and forth in its cage, and had a look of what I thought was pure anger at the time.  It’s eyes looked directly at mine. The image is still with me.

And that is what I am looking at right now: a cougar. Only it is not pacing aimlessly, but creeping up slowly, steadily, and with determination in my direction, its menacing yellow eyes aiming straight at me like a pair of lasers. There was blood on his face, so it had already killed some poor creature mesmerized by those eyes.

What could I do? I had not read any literature on ‘what to do if you encounter a cougar’. Certainly ‘playing dead’ was not a viable option. There were no climbable trees nearby, but even if there were, the cougar no doubt could climb much faster than I could.  And I carried no decent weapon with me, although I fumbled through my pockets for a Swiss Army knife I could not find. I had neglected to take it with me. As a last resort, I searched the ground desperately for a stick or even a stone, that would give me some kind of chance, however slim. There was nothing such in sight.

As the cougar approached, I heard a sound that I had imagined many times, but had never actually heard even once. There was a rattling sound. I could see that the cougar heard it as well, as it stopped in its tracks suddenly. Not one to put too much time into thinking about what it should do in this situation, the cougar turned around and ran. It must have seen the effects of rattler snakebite before. I was rescued by a Massassauga rattler. I was saved by a snake.

A Simple Request

So this is why I am asking you today to sign my petition, and maybe donate to the cause. I am sending it to the provincial government, asking those with the power to do so to designate certain areas as Massassauga rattler friendly territories, closed to human visitors who might want to kill them. Please sign my petition: S.O.S - Save Our Snakes.