THE OLD DOG AND THE PUP

The pup had reached the end of the trail. With no idea what he had been following he had come face to face with his quarry. Yes, he had reached the end of the trail and it could very well be his last, for the formidable creature that he faced could kill, horribly. The young dog still did not realize the danger it faced.

The youngster had been following the old dog, eagerly watching as the veteran worked a covey of quail. The covey had been hunted only a short time before, and now, each time the old dog thought he had brought the birds to a stand the quail would break, running along the ground to the next bit of cover.

Disgusted, the old dog quit following the fidgety birds and began casting about. Near a stand of scrub oak he discovered another covey. He began a circling movement to bring the quail to a stand.

Following the old dog’s lead the pup was also trailing a fresh scent. Unlike the old dog the pup did not know what it was he trailed. This was an unfamiliar scent and his curiosity drove him on.

Whatever it was it had passed through a large stand of scrub palmetto. It had then passed alongside the full length of an old burned out pine log to finally circle a small clearing. Totally immersed in the trail the pup was using his nose to vacuum any vagrant wisps of scent from the ground.

This was not quail that the pup followed, oh no. Nor was it rabbit. He had been cured of trailing rabbit. If a rabbit were to leap from cover right under his nose he would ignore it. He knew that his man didn’t want him to chase rabbits, nor did the old dog, and he wanted to please them both.

The scent that he followed was very faint. A strange musky smell, so vague as to be almost undetectable. He was sure the old dog would be proud of him. He continued on the trail. Hmmm, whatever it was had entered a big gopher tortoise burrow! The pup forced his head and shoulders into the burrow and snuffed deeply several times. All he could detect was the turtle’s earthy scent. Backing out he immediately picked up the trail again.

He was approaching a small stand of scrub oak and was in the process of circling an old, fire blackened pine stump when he came face to face with his quarry.

A peculiar, dry buzzing sound stopped him in his tracks.

His excitement was obvious as his tail wagged his entire hind end. The pup had worked the trail to perfection and he was proud.

The only problem was that his first trailing experience could very well be his last. Only a few feet in front of his nose was a very large and a very angry eastern diamondback rattlesnake. The deadly reptile was loosely coiled, its head slightly raised, that black tongue slowly flicking out, tasting the air. The snake was telling the dog in no uncertain terms that it was ready to defend itself.

Over seven feet in length and larger then a man’s arm, the powerful reptile turned away from the pup and began to crawl toward a large clump of scrub oak and palmetto growth. It was very much aware of what the dog was doing. As the snake moved so did the pup, taking two steps forward.

This movement on the dog’s part was more than the snake could tolerate. It immediately stopped and assumed its full defensive position. Coiled, head raised a foot above the ground, the air filled with the castanet sound of its rattles, the diamondback waited.

The large venomous reptile knew that it couldn’t eat the dog and it didn’t want a confrontation, but what had to be would be.

The previous year a German Shepherd had confronted the snake. The diamondback had defended itself in the only way it knew. Struck full in the face the dog had received a massive dose of venom in the cheek. It was highly unlikely that anyone could have helped the dog even if that had been an option. Abandoned, the big dog died a terrible death, alone, there in the forest.

The pup, excited that it had been able to bring this noisy creature to bay was imitating the old dog in a beautiful point. Tail straight out behind, one forepaw lifted in the process of taking another slow step forward.

He had watched his teacher move in on a covey of quail with such stealth that he would come to a final point only inches from one of the birds. Then he would hold that point until his master arrived to kick up the covey.

The pup’s movements were beautiful to behold as he slowly lowered his foot and then leaning forward he once again assumed that statuesque pose. His intention was to approach as close to his subject as the old dog had been to the quail. Another small step and less then three feet remained separating the youngster from an ugly death. But he had no way of knowing this.

Usually dogs will stay away from rattlesnakes. Sadly, every year there are those few that do get struck and this youngster’s curiosity was getting the best of him.

The diamondback, eyes shining brightly, drew its head back in preparation as it measured the distance.

If snakes thought in words as humans do its thoughts would have been, “Come closer foolish one. Just one more step and I will teach you a most unpleasant lesson, one you will not soon forget.”

The pup, as if answering the snake’s unspoken suggestion, began to raise his right foreleg, his body already moving forward. When he stopped he would be within striking distance of those deadly fangs.

Then it happened! There was a blur of movement and the pup was struck with such force he was knocked rolling, yipping in surprise and confusion.

The old dog had followed the pup. Taking in the situation at a glance he had acted. Charging from the side he had struck the pup with his shoulder, instantly knocking the young dog out of range of the diamondback’s strike.

The snake struck!

Its mouth agape, fangs erect, it struck hard and fast, passing through empty space beneath the old dog’s body.

The old dog, rumbling a warning to the pup, led him away from the place as the grandfather diamondback crawled away in the opposite direction.

Soon the two dogs were back with their human. The man was pleased with the two dogs as they ran toward him. He thought, ‘that pup’s going to be as good a hunter as his old man!’

The hunt had been a success. There were quail in the bag and more importantly, the dogs had worked like the champions they were.

Oh yes, and unbeknownst to their human, thanks to the old dog the pup would be there to hunt another day.

Meanwhile, back in the small thicket of scrub oak, laying loosely coiled at the mouth of a gopher tortoise burrow is the grandfather diamondback. After its encounter with the dogs it confronted a cottontail rabbit. The rabbit was less fortunate then the pup. The reptile lay relaxed, its stomach full. I wonder what it was thinking about?