Snakebite

Camped on the Missouri River in Montana exactly one year ago today on August 1st, Bloom was bitten by that rattlesnake. It was a very hot morning in an area of golden colored stubbly grass parched from the summer heat. We’d been camped there to fly-fish and I’d let both Peat and Bloom off leash on this patch of dry earth just outside the campground boundary several times before without incident.

Out of habit, and mostly peace of mind, our routine was (and still is) that we always put the Garmin dog collars on the dogs when they aren’t in a fenced area. I wish we had better control of them but we don’t. I always have the hand-held device for the dog collars gripped tightly in my hand or on a strap around my neck ready to audio buzz them to get their attention or for really serious offenses like the time that I caught Peat when it was too late, watching him roll and rub his entire body on a stinky dead skunk.

The dogs in typical Peat and Bloom pent-up bird dog fashion, honed from too much time on the boat or in the pickup, get unleashed and they go balls-to-the-wall, nose skimming the ground, running like high speed freight trains. I prefer dogs with good noses but those noses can sometimes, actually most of the time, get them in trouble. In our case, unleashing the hounds is like opening the door to a free all-you-can eat breakfast buffet at Golden Corral. A few years ago, on the bank of the Missouri River over by Cascade, checking the boat ramp at Pelican Point, Peat found a ziplock containing florescent bright pink colored rotten Salmon bait discarded by some careless fisherman. He scarfed it down like he was in a Nathan’s hot dog eating contest. It happened so fast we couldn’t even react except to grab him by the collar, scold him, and put him back into the pickup. Within minutes as we were driving down the road, he was puking so violently it scared us. We pulled over to let him out to finish barfing outside and then cleaned the backseat floor mats of the pickup with our “dog vomit kit” that we try to keep stocked with rubber gloves and lots of paper towels. It wasn’t our first rodeo of dogs finding and eating nasty stuff plus puking in the car. It also won’t be our last.

In that campground where Bloom got bit last year, the dogs were running around nose to the ground and both screeched to a halt and were curiously looking at something. I couldn’t see it at first and assumed it was just another dead ground squirrel or pile of old elk poop until I heard the rattle. Just like fast-draw Clint Eastwood in those fabulous old Spaghetti Westerns, I had that handheld that was around my neck in my hand so fast and I pressed hard with the button rarely used. The continuous shock one.

Both dogs at once came running back to me and I remember thinking, “Thank God, nobody got bit.” Bloom, my sensitive dog, the one who yelps bloody murder when he gets the smallest needle injection at the vet, was actually bitten on the chin but didn’t show any sort of reaction when it happened. About a half hour later, he started acting odd and looking sleepy, and his chin started to swell. We searched but couldn’t find puncture marks but we knew right away he’d most likely been bit there.

Making some quick phone calls, we found the closest vet clinic that carried anti-venom which was over an hour away in Twin Bridges. We loaded Bloom into the car and took off driving through Ennis, Virginia City, Nevada City, and Sheridan. Along the way just in case, I rehearsed in my mind what I’d say to the Montana state trooper that had pulled us over for very excessive speeding between all those towns that how dare they slow us down. It was something short and fast like “Bird dog got bit by a rattler!” I’d tell the officer and hope they’d would understand and let us go on.

We arrived to the Vet clinic and they took him into the exam room for the anti-venom treatment. In the end, everything worked out. Bloom survived with very little complications except for some fur that won’t grow back on his chin.

Post rattlesnake bite, 2 weeks of healing.

First upland bird hunt of season. Sept, 2023.