There we were: me, six dogs and a foot and a half long rattlesnake 10 feet in front of us basking in the sun.
I was about three quarters of the way through the usual fire road loop that I did with my dog walking clients when I nearly stumbled across this unexpected reptile. The dogs and I stood there for about 30 seconds as I tried to figure out my next move. The owners of the dogs were expecting their pups back (plus the Southern California temperature was rising as it got closer to the afternoon), so turning around and doing the first three quarters in reverse was not an appealing option.
“HEY,” I yelled, “HEY!!! MOVE!”
Nothing. I tried stamping my foot on the dirt road, but the snake just lay there unfazed by any of my threats. The dogs were getting anxious at this point. We’d had a good rhythm going in our hike and were really moving as a pack at this point, so the sudden stop, coupled with my strange behavior, had started to work them up a little bit. Rusty, a large Chesapeake Bay Retriever was starting to give the hairy eye ball to George, an enormous Golden Retriever that I walked. These two dogs were my biggest challenge in this first pack of dogs that I walked in my canine career, and moving them together as a unit was always my best strategy for avoiding any confrontation between them. The longer we stood there the more tense the two dogs got.
I kicked dirt, I yelled, no matter what I did this snake wouldn’t budge. Then I got it. Of course! I’d pick up some rocks and throw them at the snake. Just gently, enough to startle him off the road. My first toss went wide and to the left. That’s OK, I thought, there’s plenty of rocks here. Second toss landed a few inches beyond the snake. I aimed the third rock, let it go, and BAM, it landed right on that snake!
If you’ve ever heard a rattlesnake’s rattle go off, you’re not likely to forget that sound anytime soon. And if the dogs had been tense a moment before, that rattle released that tension into a fury that only nature could have created. They didn’t know what was making that noise, but they knew they wanted to kill it. Shayla, my pit mix, started straining at the leash to get to it. It took every ounce of strength I had to gather the dogs back together, move them around the snake as it sulked into the brush on the side of the trail, and continue up the fire road, thankful that I had six uninjured dogs with me.
I’m fascinated by these cues that animals give to each other. In my line of work today I continually think about how the energy I’m giving off at any minute is effecting a dog I’m working with. Relationships have subtle changes to them. In the same way that we can’t always explain how we’ve grown apart from someone over the years, we can’t always explain how problems with our dogs may have developed over time. Some interactions are clear cut. Snake rattles rattle, human gets scared of being bitten and wants to avoid snake, dog wants to kill snake, snake will bite if threatened. Dog jumps up on me, I tell them “No” and correct them off of me. But it’s not so easy to correct a dog’s behavior that is long rooted in its ways.
I believe in teaching obedience and using it as a means of communicating to our dogs, because it creates a common language that we can use. A language that makes sense to both us and our dog. It’s not about teaching party tricks. It’s about teaching a way of life with our canine companions. We want to give our dogs our all when it comes to praise and affection, and match those same levels when it comes to our discipline and structure. It’s not always easy and it does require consistency (Use it or lose it!) but I think the payoffs are always worth it. The snake and dog may never see eye to eye with one another, but there is something to learn from their communication. It’s quick and effective.
If we can make clear, quick and effective communication habit for ourselves when we work with our dog, then I believe we have the key to establishing a balanced relationship with our pup.
