Saturday, May 17, 2008, my wife and I went on a trail run down to the Rio Grande. The trail we took was the Ancho Rapid Trail. The river was very high and the rapids were spectacular. We spent about 40 minutes at the river and threw sticks for our dog "Dude." On the way back up the trial we met 3 hikers who warned us about a large western diamondback on the trial about 300 yards ahead. I picked up Dude and started walking back up the steep trail. We thought we had passed the location of the snake, but suddenly I heard a loud hiss and then rattling. I instinctively stepped backward and looked for the snake. It was a large, rust colored diamondback; probably close to 5 feet long and quite heavy in the body. The snake was very agitated although we had done nothing to disturb it other than our unknowing approach. The snake was coiled up, in defensive posture, right on the trail.
We looked at the snake for a minute, then I took a long stick and moved it well off the trail, down-slope about 30 feet. I didn't see where it went from there. My wife Teri was holding Dude at the time. We started back up the trail and after a while I put Dude down so we could start running again. As soon as he hit the ground Dude made a u-turn and beelined back to the location of the snake. Teri and I were yelling at him - NO! STOP! NO DUDE! And I chased him, throwing rocks to change his direction, but he was on the very steep and rocky slope and I was too far behind. He found the snake and just as I came on him it struck him in the head as he put his nose close to it. He gave a yelp and retreated up to Teri
Within 30 seconds he was in pain and Teri saw fang marks on his upper left lip, and one large one just in front of his left eye. I carried him out about 2.5 miles, but by the time we got to the car he was in serious trouble and his head was very swollen. He was salivating heavily, gasping, and some body functions were uncontrolled. We drove to the vet, but he convulsed, stopped breathing and died in the parking lot about 50 minutes after being bitten. I think he knew the end was coming, because just before he died, he sat up, and stood in his usual place between the 2 front bucket seats before collapsing.
Later, the veterinarian wondered why Dude died so quickly and she did a post mortum exam. She found that the fang that entered his lip had broken off, probably when Dude jerked away, and had pierced his tonsil, deep in his throat. The fang was obviously filled with venom and this caused his throat to rapildy swell, cutting off his airway. The vet said it was a very freak thing to have the fang break off and lodge in his throat. Dude could also have been trying to bite the snake. The vet remarked that the fang she removed from Dude's throat was very large.
Dude was 7 years old and our almost constant companion and we loved him. He was loyal, happy, and friendly to everyone. He wanted to be with, or more accurately, be on the lap of someone all the time. He demanded constant attention and was always the center of any action at the house. His fault (maybe common to the Jack Russell), which I tried, but was unable to correct, was to tune-out our commands anytime he got focused on something he wanted. He got into trouble several times because of this, and this time it was fatal. I have since learned of a "rattlesnake vaccine" that could maybe have saved his life. Time, the fact that he was so small (15-17 lbs), and probably the large amount of venom, were all against us. In all our trail running, and hiking in New Mexico, Utah, and Colorado this was the first rattler we have encountered.
