Chet Baker, Snaker

Chet Baker LOVED Camp Arrowhead. He investigated every cabin and outbuilding, and roamed free the whole weekend, always coming back to check and make sure we hadn't wandered away. It's good to have a trustworthy dog. My only fear is that someone will invite him into their car and he'll take them up on it!

We spent a fabulous three-day-weekend on the Delaware shore at an Episcopalian church camp called Camp Arrowhead. We were there to play music for our dear friends' wedding, and play we did...more on that later. But since it's been such a Chet drought for his thirsty fans, I thought I'd lead off with Chet's First Snake.
I took a brief walk Sunday afternoon to collect my thoughts and energy, wandering through the dry loblolly pine forest with Baker. It smelled like incense, and was quiet but for the squeak of brown-headed nuthatches and the occasional CHINK! of a blue grosbeak. Oh yeah, nice nice birds. Up ahead on the sandy road of the nearly deserted camp (their season starts June 1), I spotted an enormous black rat snake. Ah. Just the thing for a naive dog's first snake. I let Chet walk right over it, dum de dum de dum, and quietly sat down a little way off to watch him discover it.
Being the most faithful of pups, if not the most observant, Chet soon circled back to join me. Oh, look. A big black stick. I like those. Chet pressed his nose to its scaly side and snuffed deeply. Hmmm. This one smells rather strange. Tarnation! What is this thing?

I could almost hear the snake hissing, "Fie upon you, curious dog! Bite and I shall bite back!" At this point, I was really glad this wasn't Chet's first copperhead.
The snake slowly gathered itself into a defensive posture, vibrating its tail in the dry pine needles. Baker backed off, instinct his only guide. I was fascinated how he stayed just out of striking range, while trying to get more olfactory data on this strange creature. I didn't coach him, just let the two interact. I've been bitten by a similarly sized black rat snake (while peeling it off a wren house), and it's not pleasant, but neither is it life-threatening. It feels like about fifty tiny hot needles, and it leaves a cool U-shape of blood beads on your skin. But you really have to piss them off to get them to bite--like peeling them off a wren house...For now, I wanted Chet to get the concept of "snake" for the inevitable time he stumbles on a copperhead back on Indigo Hill. And if he was going to do something stupid, I wanted him to get a bite for it.Black rats are gentle snakes, very slow to take umbrage and even slower to strike. If you handle them gently, they usually won't strike at all. And this was a monster by any standard, at least five feet long. Such a beauty.
Chet quickly settled down, and stationed himself between me and the snake. Whether he did this to protect me or not is open to question. As I've said before, he sticks to me like glue when he's leery of something. Bill looked at him, asleep on my lap on the long ride home Monday, and said, "You are the base Chet plugs into to recharge himself." Funny thing: He's my recharger, too. How I love this pooch. And now he knows a little something about snakes. He passed his test with flying colors. He investigated, kept his distance, then let the snake be. No fool, he. I'm proud of my little black son.