One July about ten
years ago, while taking our usual
morning bicycle ride through a subdivision of our small south-central Texas town, we were
surprised to encounter what we at first assumed to be a road-killed Texas Ratsnake (Pantherophis obsoletus lindheimeri) on a
well-developed suburban street. Upon passing
the snake, however, it seemed to be quite alive but merely pressing itself against the
pavement and remaining motionless. It was
about 1000 hrs CDST and the temperature was about 85oF. This portion of the street was very heavily shaded,
mostly by native live oak (Quercus virginiana)
and post oak (Quercus stellatus) trees. We immediately turned
around and I managed to pick up the snake, without being bitten, just before a passing car
got to it. It was a small adult and appeared
to be a female. We decided that the best
course of action would be to release it into a nearby undeveloped woody area about a block
and a half away. It took about five minutes to
cycle back to the release point, holding the snake in one hand. We released her beside a massive post oak that
overhung the road slightly. She swiftly
disappeared into the weeds surrounding the tree, instead of climbing it.
Having completed our
snake rescue, we continued our usual route back down the same street. When we arrived at the point where we had found the
snake, we were astonished to find another of similar size in the exact same spot! This second snake was behaving in the same manner
as the first and it too was rapidly caught without event.
Examining it in my hands, the second snake was almost the same size as the
first; a small adult (P. o. lindheimeri does not
run very large around here). There was a
slight difference in the dorsal coloration that anyone familiar with these snakes could
have noticed and both appeared to have emerged from the same sandy driveway that ran to a
suburban house about twenty yards away. The
driveway bordered a partially cleared lot which has been occasionally used as a goat
pasture.
I was reminded of the
old folklore allegation that snakes always are found "in pairs", and I could
understand how such a circumstance would make a lasting impression--it did on me! Occurrences like this could easily lead to the
development of such a myth, barring a logical explanation, of course. The logical part came with the examination of this
new snake's hindquarters. It was a male. The first snake was a female. So it would logically seem that the second snake
was merely following a pheromone
trail laid down by the first as she crossed at the exact spot. 1 Snakes are highly olfactory creatures, a dimension
of their existence that we humans scarcely notice, much less understand.
Another olfactory event
occurred earlier in that same summer that engendered a new respect for the ability of the
common domestic cat (although the cat in question would no doubt object to both the
"common" and "domestic" adjectives) to detect snakes from their odor
and/or pheromones.
It was about 0700 hours
on a cool but humid June morning. We usually
arose, allowed the cats out into the back yard, and then, a few minutes later, joined them
to drink our morning coffee on the patio. The
large neutered male cat was walking from the patio across the yard (a distance of no more
than fifteen feet) to a wash tub filled with water from which he usually drank. Just before he reached the tub, he stopped
abruptly, raising his head in the familiar phlemen
gesture. This behavior is ordinarily
associated with the detection of the scent markings of other cats and consists of drawing
back the upper lips, exposing the dentition. It
is thought that this behavior serves to draw molecules inhaled from the air into the vomeronasal organ which
supplements the olfactory sense. The cat
immediately turned about 120o away from his original course, heading for a
large Mexican Ash growing adjacent to the patio. Growling
now, he rapidly ascended the tree, the fur on his back and tail erect. Fearing a cat-fight, we roused ourselves from our
lawn chairs and ran to the tree. We saw no
other cat but, on closer inspection, following the cats intense gaze, detected a
fairly large (60) adult Texas Ratsnake (P.
o. lindheimeri) barely visible among the higher branches.
We quickly gathered up
the highly disturbed feline and shuttled him back inside the house. The ratsnake was draped across a branch that was
far too narrow to support the weight of the portly cat anyway, but it would have been
interesting to observe the outcome of the encounter, given the reputationdeserved or
notthat cats have for eliminating snakes from an area.
1 By
midsummer most Nearctic colubrid snakes have already completed their typical single
reproductive effort. Considerable
circumstantial evidence exists, however, to suggest that P. o. lindheimeri in south Texas occasionally produces a
second clutch of eggs. Such an event would
account for an adult female snake laying down a pheromone trail in the middle of July.
[Back]