Snake-bit Man Back to Routine
Wednesday, July 26, 2006
By ANDY NETZEL
Alabama Press-Register
COFFEEVILLE -- Until last week, taxidermist Calvin Guy had never had any bad run-ins with critters, despite spending most of his 72 years surrounded by nature. Out one morning plucking catalpa worms -- small caterpillars that reside on and near catalpa trees, and also make great catfish bait -- Guy spotted a small
copperhead snake.
He ignored it and continued grabbing the juiciest of the would-be bait, often pronounced as "
catawba worms" by local fishermen. Guy had seen plenty of snakes in his time, and had killed innumerable rattlers. The copperheads usually slithered away when ignored.
Guy, though, was doing such a good job of ignoring that he forgot the snake was there. As he reached down toward another leaf near the ground, he felt a quick piercing pain on his right hand. "
I thought it was a bee sting," he said. "
I looked and I seen him move."
Few snake bites in Alabama are fatal, said Cyndi Johnson, head keeper at the Alabama Gulf Coast Zoo. The venomous species in the state aren't generally aggressive. "
They're not going to strike you and waste all that venom either," she said. "
Unless they are extremely threatened, they will give a dry bite or a small amount of venom. They can only produce so much venom because they need it to kill their prey. They won't waste it on a human." That is, unless they are young and unable to control how much venom is delivered.
This copperhead, at 18 inches long, probably hatched this spring, Johnson said. Was it old enough to control its poison? Debatable. Guy knew the snake was a poisonous variety and quickly squeezed around the bite, pushing out as much blood as he could. Then, before the snake got away, he used a stick to kill it.
He slung the snake into the back of his pickup truck, then drove himself from his secluded home nestled in the woods in Coffeeville to the hospital in Grove Hill.
With the copperhead in hand, he went into the emergency room to receive a double shot of serum to counter the venom. Johnson said that Guy's action -- bringing the snake with him -- is good practice for any bite victim. "
If you don't know what snake it is, they can't give you the antivenin. The best thing to do is bring the snake with you, dead or alive," she said. But it's important, too, not to get bitten again trying to retrieve it.
Guy said he was feeling fine, and his hand swelled only to his wrist. Doctors suggested he be sent to the University of South Alabama Medical Center for observation. He reluctantly agreed, but regretted it around 2 p.m. that day. Normally he heads down the road to the Goco gas station for a cup of coffee at that time. In the hospital, they wouldn't let him drink anything. "
I told them this old snake wasn't going to hurt me, but they wouldn't give me a break," he said.
This week, Guy has returned to his home. Retired from his 27-year career at a paper mill, he still works some 50 hours a week as a taxidermist. Mounted on his walls are boars and deer and largemouth bass and foxes from his 55 years in taxidermy. He also has a picture of Buck, the deer he made a pet for 16 years -- he's mounted now, too.
Looking at his wound, he said he sees only one fang mark. "
He got very lucky," Johnson said. Guy has also returned to thinking about his daily life, focusing on which taxidermy projects need to be completed next, how he can juggle his schedule to get more time for fishing and how he can meet a new wife. (Smokers, drinkers, those too skinny or too heavy need not apply.)
The snake barely registers in his thoughts, he said. "
He's somewhere in the freezer," he said. "
I have to look at it in there. I wonder if he didn't have but one tooth." Guy won't be mounting the creature on his wall. "
Nah, I don't want to do a snake," he said. "
Too much trouble."
Linear Mode
