Land of Poison - and I don't mean Bret Michaels

Living in Western Oregon, you get used to the idea that there's not much out in nature that's going to kill you (other than your own stupidity, of course). Australia, on the other hand, is a pretty deadly place. If it can sting, strike or bite you, it probably lives here... with a lot of its friends.

Since I've been walking all over, Sarah warned me to watch for snakes. It's basically the same as living in the South. You don't hike through tall grass or open up dark sheds without keeping your eyes open for reptiles, but it's still surprising when a snake actually bites someone or something you know. Yesterday, I was taking a nap in my little flat when Sarah yelled for me. Little Bear (their blue heeler) was in medical distress. Dutchy, Sarah and the kids had been swimming in the pool and the dog was playing there also. All of a sudden, Little Bear was vomiting, having difficulty breathing and couldn't stand up properly. Sarah called the vet and they rushed off to the clinic. I stayed and took care of the kids (a nightmare of a different sort, but I survived).

At first the vet thought it could be a paralysis tick (had no idea there was such a thing), but because of the quick onset of symptoms, it had to be a snake bite. (Time to point out that the dog had been playing about eight feet from the lounge chair where I had been sprawled for most of the morning.) After $2,000 worth of anti-venom, Little Bear was still critical last night, but stable. She's doing much better this morning and probably will get to come home this afternoon.

When a bird rustled leaves this morning on my walk, I almost jumped out of my skin. I am now on hyper snake alert.