Slow Worms Have a Bite!!!!

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Posted by Jake on May 9, 2011, 2:29 pm
 
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Checked my compost daleks today in anticipation of emptying them over
the beds and borders. Happy that both look like I've tipped a bag of
multi-purpose into them (and the exit holes at the bottom look equally
good).

Made big mistake!

Pushed hand down into one to feel what it was like in the middle.

Picture this - jiggling hand around to get it down as far as arm will
reach. Nice warm feeling on hand. Suddenly, great pain. Yank hand out,
complete with two slow worms firmly hanging on to fingers by their
teeth or whatever they have.

I was whacking them against the side of the daleks for a while before
they let go and slithered off somewhere (OK they're lizards that don't
slither but I wasn't worrying about semantics at that point). Sheesh!
The amount of blood; the size of the wounds.

Note to self - don't try rescuing slow worms from cat in future!

Three hours and dollops of TCP later and the hand is still stinging!


Posted by Corporal Jones on May 9, 2011, 3:05 pm
 On 09/05/2011 19:29, Jake wrote:

Well that's a first for me, handled loads of Slow worms and never once
been bitten, they swallow their prey rather than chew them, if they feel
threatened they shit on you, stinks as well.
Sure they weren't young grass snakes or adders?

--
Corporal Jones
"Don't panic don't panic"
Life will go on albeit somewhat reduced


Posted by Jake on May 9, 2011, 4:49 pm
 On Mon, 09 May 2011 20:05:26 +0100, Corporal Jones


Deffo slow worms. I get adders in the garden a bit later in the year
but never adderlings (is that what they're called?) as they seem to
spend the early part of the season along the riverbank next door but
one (next door being a field currently of rape - thanks for inhalers -
the river's on the other side). Grass snakes tend to curl around my
hand/arm rather than bite (and are quite cute in a way). I've had a
nip from a slow worm before whilst rescuing it from a neighbour's cat
but not a pair of grab and hang ons like today.

Plus adders would have bitten and "run" (and I'd have suffered a bit
more in a different way, I think!). But I didn't panic. I tried a
Mannering lecture first. They didn't drop off (not even to sleep). You
would have been proud, watching me whacking them against one of the
daleks, in a totally non-panic mood I hasten to add Then this funny
chap appeared with some sort of device he called a sonic screwdriver.
He pointed it at them. There was a funny buzz and they let go all of a
sudden and wriggled off (not slithering I hasten to add).

Posted by kay on May 10, 2011, 4:48 am
 
Jake;920696 Wrote:

Shame. You really missed an opportunity there! Sounds as if you had
plenty of time to go indoors and fetch your camera...


I'm so jealous, not just slow worms but grass snakes and adders too!

I had proud no-panic moment too - on holiday in Portugal a couple of
weeks ago, mooching around looking at orchids, walked round a beehive to
start my journey back, spotted another orchid, bent down to check it -
didn't notice the *second* beehive 12 inches from the orchid. Suddenly
realised I had a bee on my nose and several others attempting to
entangle themselves in my hair. Batted off the bee on my nose (a swollen
nose tip is *so* unattractive) then said "wait - bees don't like people
thrashing about wildly", so walked calmly but briskly away, and shed all
the bees without  receiving a sting.


It was part way through this that I realised the world was out of focus
...


Binoculars revealed my glasses lying about 18 inches from the hive.

Luckily my resident oligochaetologist did his Sir Galahad act. My silk
headscarf over his head and face, sleeves pulled down, socks over his
hands. Walked calmly in, picked up the glasses and came back out.
Brilliant!




--
kay


Posted by Jake on May 10, 2011, 6:19 am
 On Tue, 10 May 2011 08:48:23 +0000, kay


You're braver than I am! Many years ago, I and several others were
clearing a woodland path when we came across a "wild" bee's nest. Well
actually one of the group whacked it with a machete or something. The
sight of so many grown lads running like mad and waving their arms in
the air must have been funny. My sacrifice was to have one find its
way up my jeans and into my boxer shorts. I'll leave you to guess
where I got stung but after that my father always used to sing a
particular version of "The boy stood on the burning deck" whenever we
met.