Actually, her nickname [by me] is 'Damn Stupid Dog.' She's actually not the least bit dumb, but she irritates me, and since I can't call people stupid [at least not where they can hear it] she gets to be the stupid dog.
One of Sydney's great delights is tormenting snakes. I've only seen garter snakes around here, but we have lots of poisonous snakes here in Missouri, too. So, when she finds one, I have to go make sure she hasn't found something that can hurt her.
She likes to bark and snap at the snakes, wagging her tail like mad the whole time, so I'm pretty sure she's only playing with them. The thing is, the other day, Steve and I went out to watch her. As I watched, I realized that if she snapped right when the snake struck, she'd probably end up biting its head off.
No more had I thought it, she did it. The snake struck, Sydney snapped, and the snake was lobotomized. I don't think it was completely dead when Steve took it and threw it over the fence [the last thing we needed was for Sydney or one of the kids to decide a dead snake would make a good toy, pet, or snack].
Steve said it was, of course, because I have a tendency to make him [quickly] kill animals that are suffering. I woke him out of a dead sleep one night to make him kill a mouse that had been caught in a trap and wasn't dead yet. I also made him kill a fish that had one of his eyes protruding and blood pooled in it. It could only swim in circles and wasn't eating. I can't take that shit, so I made him kill it.
Yes, I'm a big dork about this stuff, especially since I won't kill it myself, but that's me. So now we have this snake issue.
Snakes give me the willies. I don't like them [at least not when they can get me, blech, I get the shivers just thinking about one of 'em touching me]. And if it came down to killing a [poisonous] snake or letting it bite me or one of my kids, the snake dies every time [and I would kill it without blinking an eye, afterward, I'd freak out, but in the heat of the moment, to protect my loved ones, I could kill just about anything].
However, I am not going to let the dog kill the harmless garter snakes in the yard, even if it is unintentional. So today, I heard Sydney barking in the back yard. I looked, and sure enough, she was doing her bark, pounce, wag, snap, repeat thing that she does when she has a snake 'treed.'
So, I went out, found a stick, and chased the dog away while encouraging [aka poking at] the snake to go into the neighbor's yard where the dog doesn't care about snakes.
It gave me the willies, but I did it anyway. And that's why I had to come in and write about it, because writing is a form of therapy, and I'm certain I need some.
Whether it's because got close to an animal I'm scared of, or that I did it to save its life is still undecided.