I saw someone run over a wild corn snake tonight. It was really terrible. I stopped and pulled over to help it, but the damage was pretty bad. So, I stayed by it in the road with my car's flashers on and signaled people to go around. I called my dad to come help me, but I knew there wasn't much we could do. I tried calling some rescue places, a few vets - anyone I could think of. No one had any vets that were knowledgeable about reptiles. I positioned myself over the snake so that no one would run him over again, and he wrapped himself around my foot. I guess they like to feel "grounded" that way.

When my dad showed up he had a shovel with him, so he tried to get the snake onto it and move it off the road. (My dad is afraid of snakes.) The snake was a good size, and too big to fit on the shovel, and all my dad was really doing was pushing the poor thing across the asphalt. So I told him to stop and bent down to pick it up myself. I know it was taking a risk: parasites, getting bit, etc. But it was far too hurt to even think about biting. All gory details aside, I ended up with blood and other misc. "parts" on my hands. In the end, there was nothing we could do; no one could help us and the snake needed nothing short of major surgery. So my dad and I decided the only thing we could do for it was put it out of its misery. It was one of the hardest decisions I've ever had to make.

Tonight is a very sad night for me.

Rest in peace, little snake. I'm sorry I couldn't have done more.