It had been a full day. After returning to our RV and finishing supper, I retired to a comfortable chair outdoors with my whiskey and coke. Thunderheads were building in the distance. It was sundown and a bank of clouds to the west flared red. As daylight faded, the sky fluttered with lightening; far off, the muted kettledrums of thunder. Movement caught my eye on the patio mat. It was a baby copperhead slowly squiggling toward the camper—my face was a cartoon of disbelief. The snake continued his mission right before my eyes. I grabbed a broom leaning against the trailer and followed behind the snake with the intention of coaxing him into the grass on the other side. Realizing he was being pursued, the youngster instead took refuge in the pliable wheel cover of my RV. Great! Why couldn’t I just leave him be?
That, it turns out, is the primary reason why people are bitten by copperheads—we can’t leave them alone. Whenever we see one, we’re obsessed, in a frantic effort to get a closer look at it, to chase it out of our space, or. . .to kill it. Once we spot one, there seems to be this innate need for people to fool with the snake. All the snake wants is to be left alone!
Copperheads are common to Texas, still many folks freak out completely at the sight of one. Many of us are victims of parental brainwashing, infected by generations of tribal superstitions and myth. News and TV reports stoke outsized fears too. Books, movies and exaggerated exploits of friends and neighbors further sensationalize snakes. Ordinarily, baby animals invoke compassion—even appreciation—but not (witness my own behavior) for copperheads. The species has been plagued by human persecution from day one—it’s not easy being a copperhead!
For many people, just knowing the snake is venomous is enough to want them dead when, in fact, this is how their survival is even possible. Without the benefit of legs, copperheads don’t have to chase down their prey; a little nip, then sit back and wait for dinner to be ready. In fact, because of copperheads’ short fangs and the relatively low amount and toxicity of venom used, people seldom die from their bites. Human mortality has a higher likelihood from insect bites and lightning strikes. So, let’s examine this much maligned but efficient predator a little deeper.
In terms of habitat, the only requirements for a copperhead to be happy are sunlight and some type of cover. This explains why we encounter them so easily. . .we unwittingly step on them, rip off their overhead protection, stick our hands into their space and otherwise disturb them in places where they live. Copperheads bite more people in most years than any other U.S. species of snake. In the Dallas-Fort Worth area a fellow made a U-Tube video with the help of his own captive copperhead snake (he was a herpetologist). He first placed the copperhead into a pile of firewood. Then, as he slowly removed the stack from the side of his house using a garden rake, until the very last piece of wood, the copperhead chose to stay hidden. In this demonstration, before exposing the snake, he placed a large plastic trash can nearby. Sensing a dark safe place to hide, it crawled right in. The copperhead could then be easily and safely transported to a new location to be released unharmed. Don’t stick your hands directly into potential copperhead habitat! Remember, they live here too.
Effective hunters, copperheads are masters at the art of ambush. They’ll lay in wait, perfectly camouflaged, for a mouse or toad to happen by. Using a combination of eyesight (daytime) and heat sensors (nighttime), they take their quarry by total surprise. Copperheads can also hunt conventionally by actively searching for dinner. If the prey is small, the snake holds it in its jaws until dead. Larger prey (like a baby cottontail) will be bitten and released, giving time for the venom to do its job, then seeking body heat to track the victim down after death. On the menu are such additional delicacies as baby turtles, rats, birds, lizards, frogs, grasshoppers, cicadas, and other insects. Adult copperheads may eat only 10 or 12 meals per year, depending on the size of their dinners.
Female copperheads can be very demanding lovers. Mating season lasts from February through May and then again from late August to October. It can be quite a show. Two competing males engage in ritual combat (basically, body-shoving contests) until one prevails. It’s not necessarily a “done deal” that the winning male automatically gets what he wants. If the female has a flare for more drama, she may also fight, rejecting any males who back down from a fight with her. There’s a lot of bad genes going around out there these days. A girl can’t be too careful!
Mom incubates fertilized eggs inside her body. Babies are born live, and the “brood” can be anywhere from two to 18 little squigglers. Baby copperheads, in addition to being smaller, are more grayish in color than adults and possess bright yellow or greenish yellow tail tips (this goes away in about a year). Youngsters are born complete with fangs and venom—ready to go, right out of the box! Check out this video and you’ll see what I mean: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z0vAaPvp-9Q&vl=en
Incidentally, do you know the difference between something being venomous and poisonous? I’ve heard it put this way: If something bites you and you get sick, it was venomous. If you bite something—and you get sick, it was poisonous. Snake venom oftentimes has medical value for us humans; it plays a part in making anti-venom serums used to mitigate actual snake bite but there are more uses being discovered.
Scientists have uncovered a chemical in copperhead venom that may prove helpful in fighting cancer. In one experiment at the University of Southern California, researchers injected contortrostatin, a protein found in southern copperhead snake venom, directly into the mammary chain of mice injected with human breast cancer cells two weeks previously. The result? The protein stopped the growth of the tumors and slowed the growth of blood vessels that supply these tumors with nutrients. The venom’s protein also slowed the spread of tumors to the lungs, a place where breast cancer effectively spreads.
In truth, the copperhead is beneficial to man—it helps keep our rodent/insect population under control. A new breast cancer treatment would be welcome. Moreover, there’s not a copperhead in all of nature that seeks a confrontation with people. Still, I know people who believe the only good copperhead is a dead one. They simply cannot coexist with the snake. When they see a copperhead, they grab a gun or a shovel, stating something along the lines of “there’s too many snakes around here,” when it’s equally true there are too many humans. It’s a dilemma. But in every truth the opposite is usually also true. The view that copperheads are beneficial and don’t deserve to be summarily executed is one-sided, only half the truth. Nobody wants to be bitten by a copperhead, no matter the circumstances. The fight or flight response is in everyone’s DNA. Fear, no matter how unreasonable or overblown, oftentimes lodges itself between our wisdom and our actions. Never is a man wholly a saint or a sinner—but the same is true for copperheads!
By Larry Gfeller