There
are days when even I wonder at some of the intense moments in my life. Take yesterday for example. Even for me, it scored super high on the
scale.
I’ve
been training my youngest dog, Foster, how to run and keep pace with his mom,
Sadie, and me. It’s been a challenge,
for he’s a naturally slower runner, hasn’t yet lost his thick winter coat and
the temperatures have soared to summer ones complete with humidity. Add to that how Foster, like me, has a
tougher time performing in humidity combined with heat and you get a good
picture of what challenges I’m up against.
In addition, Foster isn’t a natural uphill runner, meaning he ends up
lagging behind, unable to keep the pace Sadie and I set. That’s even with us slowing down for
him.
Sadie
is Foster’s biological mom, and a good mom at that. As such, she’s extra mindful when her boy is
struggling. I appreciate her
attentiveness and enjoy watching the close bond between Sadie and Foster. How he seeks not only my approval while
trying to run with us, but also that of his mom for comfort. Throughout our runs together, Sadie and
Foster will take opportunities to pull a little ahead of me, just enough to
allow them to touch their noses together—a way for Foster to feel comforted and
for Sadie to offer support for her boy.
During
an uphill portion of our run yesterday, Foster was struggling. Sadie was paying attention to him, comforting
him on and off and not paying attention to what was on the path ahead of us. That wasn’t a problem, for I understood and
took the roll of lookout for all three of us.
At one point during that uphill portion, I spotted a rattlesnake about
eight feet in front of us. My eyes
locked on it. Taking in its size of only
two feet, I realized it was an adolescent snake. Those are more dangerous, for they haven’t
yet learned how to not release all their venom in a bite and are more likely to
be scared, thus striking out. This snake
was not exception.
After
I spotted the snake that was quickly slithering across the path, trying to get
to the bushes on the other side, I took another two steps towards it, thinking
it would continue to crawl towards the bushes and not bother us. I was wrong.
I guess the vibration of ten feet pounding the pavement just alongside
it was too unnerving. As I went to take
my next step, Sadie and Foster on either side of me, unaware of what lie ahead
of us, the snake did an about-face and reared up. Now facing us, it did three quick warning
lunges, mouth open wide, the message perfectly clear: I’m afraid of you and will bite if you get close enough.
By
the time the snake had completed it’s second warning strike, I’d reversed the
momentum of my body and pulled back hard on both leashes, thus having Sadie,
Foster and I all take a step back.
Usually, a runner can jump over a rattlesnake without threat of being
bitten since snakes strike where they felt the last footfall vibration. But with ten legs between us, I wasn’t
willing to take the risk that all three of us would run away unbitten. So I backed us off and stood there watching
the snake as it did its third and final warning strike. Satisfied that he’d gotten his point across,
the scared snake resumed slithering as quickly as possible into the sanctuary
of the awaiting bushes. Sadie and
Foster, now aware of the snake, did what they do best; they sat peacefully on
either side of me, not doing anything to further irritate the snake. Once the snake had passed, I waited before
having us three continue past on our run.
A
couple of weeks back, I wrote of how Sadie and Foster had saved me from
stepping on a rattlesnake during a run.
It was nice to repay the favor today and keep us all safe.
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