68/365 - Snake in the Grass

This afternoon, I was treated to the harsh sound of Molly's "snake bark".  Fortunately, the squeaky toy trick I used last time worked again, so I was able to get her and Trixie inside quickly.

(Ever since last time, I've kept a very squeaky, highly desirable dog toy on hand-- one she hardly ever gets to play with, so that absence gets a chance to make the heart fonder.  She completely ignores the sound of my voice calling, begging, or scolding, but she apparently can't resist the alluring squeak of that toy.)

I went out (camera in hand) to see if I could find and identify the snake.   (I didn't actually see it earlier, but I could tell from the bark and the way Molly acted that there was one.)  The first I saw of it, it looked like just a loose piece of that black insulation foam that's designed to go around pipes-- but then the foam started hissing, and I knew I'd found the snake.  (g)

I couldn't get a really good look at it, because it stayed partially hidden under some overgrown grass, but our zoom lens let me take a couple of decent photos.  Though it had a heavy body and those rough (keeled) scales-- both of which (to me, at least) signal "MOCCASIN"-- I thought I also detected an upturned "nose".  That and the hissing (and the lack of the display of a milk-white mouth) made me a little more comfortable.  Looking at the photos on the computer, I'm convinced that this was a hognose snake.

Hognose snakes display some interesting behaviors when threatened.  They flatten out their necks and sometimes even lift their heads to further resemble a cobra.  They may also hiss and strike (though experts say that if you look closely you'll notice that the mouth stays closed, as the strike is only for show).  Supposedly, they are very unlikely to bite, even if handled.  Instead, they roll over and play dead until the coast is clear.  If a "playing-dead" snake is repositioned so that its belly is back on the ground, it will roll over again into the "dead" position.

All very interesting, but I'd rather it stayed out of our yard.  I don't trust it not to hurt our dogs, and I don't particularly want to stumble upon it, myself, the next time I'm doing yard work. . .