In the last few years I have killed 3 cottonmouths. The odd thing is each one of them was crossing my yard, basically in the same place and I saw them while sitting at my computer next to a window.
Each time I grabbed a .22 pistol and killed them. I would not even think of getting close enough to use a sword. A few years ago, I saw a rattler right where a dirt road turned into asphalt. I stopped and picked up a chunk of asphalt and threw it at him. The snake struck and only missed me by a foot or so.
I had gotten careless and when I threw, my motion carried me a bit forward of what I thought I would go. I took maybe a dozen chunks before I disabled him enough to finish him off.
Back in the mid-80s, I was looking to go back overseas. I considered a post at the embassy in Monrovia, Liberia. I took the State Department hand book for Liberia home to show it to my late wife. She seemed OK with it until she got to the part about the embassy housing area called Mamba Point. They don’t call it Mamba Point because of all the little lambs that gambol there. I began looking for another overseas post. We ended up in Argentina.
About a five and a half foot rattler. This mutt liked killing snakes. I only wanted him to kill venomous ones but he would kill them all. He was really odd. Most dogs kill snakes by dashing in and grabbing them around mid way then immediately shaking them so viciously that the snake would fly apart. Instead, Smokey would dance back and forth expertly dodging strikes then eventually getting them behind the head and hanging on until the snake was dead. He would then grab them around the middle and parade the dead snake around like he was showing off. One day he just disappeared. He could have been stolen but I always wondered if a snake finally got the best of him.
About a five and a half foot rattler. This mutt liked killing snakes. I only wanted him to kill venomous ones but he would kill them all. He was really odd. Most dogs kill snakes by dashing in and grabbing them around mid way then immediately shaking them so viciously that the snake would fly apart. Instead, Smokey would dance back and forth expertly dodging strikes then eventually getting them behind the head and hanging on until the snake was dead. He would then grab them around the middle and parade the dead snake around like he was showing off. One day he just disappeared. He could have been stolen but I always wondered if a snake finally got the best of him.