About Rattlers
...If it is within striking range and of digestible proportions, the rattler will strike. The envenomed prey is then allowed to run off and die. The victim will leave behind a trail of alarm pheromones (fear does have a smell), and the venom will immediately start liquefying its muscles and tissues. After a few minutes, the rattler will follow the scent trail to the stricken animal. By the time the snake gets there, it will have, in essence, a chipmunk milkshake. Rattlers get fat because they don’t have to fight or even expend energy in digesting their prey.
Snake Tales - Wardens
Excerpted from a story told by retired Game Protector Norm Erickson:
Every September, the McKean County Fair was a big event and I always collected rattlesnakes for it. I had a really big box in the garage that I would keep them in. As a safety precaution, the box had one-quarter to one-half inch heavy-gauge metal screen on the inside and outside of its air holes. Whenever I collected a snake, I’d just put it in the box. I went in there one day, and Holy Christ, there were little rattlesnakes crawling all over the floor. I never thought about it before, but those female rattlers give birth in late August and early September, and the young ones just slipped right through the screen. I didn’t say much about it, but every once in a while one of my neighbors would say, “My God, I found a little rattlesnake!” That was the last time I kept them at the house.
Outlaws
I cuffed the drunk and belted him in to the front seat of the Jeep. About an hour had elapsed since I’d first pulled him over, and the car had gotten pretty hot. No sooner had I gotten into the car than we both heard a hissing and rustling sound coming from the back seat. In all the excitement, I’d forgotten about that six-foot black rat snake. The drunk looked at me and said, “What the hell is that?”... When I finally got home that night, I opened the back door and retrieved my sack—it was empty! That rat snake had gnawed a hole through the corner of the plastic grass seed sack and escaped. I can’t say for certain exactly when it happened, but in my darkest thoughts I know it was when the rustling stopped, when I was doing about 70 miles an hour on Interstate 80 with a bug-eyed drunk strapped in my front seat...
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