While I question the value of laws that proclaim something the "official this" or "official that," a bill currently before West Virginia's Legislature has piqued my interest.

The bill, introduced by Sen. Clark Barnes, R-Randolph, would designate the timber rattlesnake as the official state reptile. Whether the legislation passes or not, I support the sentiment.

We West Virginians are proud of the untamed nature around us. When Gov. Joe Manchin changed the state's welcoming slogan to "open for business," we griped and bellyached and complained. The governor finally commissioned a statewide poll to see what we wanted. Not surprisingly, we voted for "wild and wonderful," which had been the unofficial state slogan since the early 1970s.

Let's face it. West Virginia is a pretty wild place. Nearly 80 percent of our surface area is wooded. A million white-tailed deer roam our forests. An estimated 12,000 black bears prowl the hills and hollows. Foxes and bobcats and coyotes visit our backyards.

When an opportunity arose to name the state animal, we could have bestowed that honor upon the whitetail. It's the critter that gets the most attention from hunters, and hunting funnels millions of dollars into business owners' pockets.

Likewise, when we chose a state fish, we could have chosen the smallmouth bass. It's the fish species West Virginia is best known for, and arguably the most popular. People come from all around the country to catch smallmouth from the Elk, New, Greenbrier, South Branch and Potomac rivers.

We didn't choose the deer, though, and we didn't choose the smallmouth. We chose the black bear to be the state animal, and we chose the brook trout to be the state fish.

Why? Maybe they better symbolize the state's wild nature. Bears are predators; they're big and powerful and can pose a threat. Brook trout are found in some of the state's remotest places and only in its cleanest, coldest waters.

The bill, introduced by Sen. Clark Barnes, R-Randolph, would designate the timber rattlesnake as the official state reptile. Whether the legislation passes or not, I support the sentiment.

We West Virginians are proud of the untamed nature around us. When Gov. Joe Manchin changed the state's welcoming slogan to "open for business," we griped and bellyached and complained. The governor finally commissioned a statewide poll to see what we wanted. Not surprisingly, we voted for "wild and wonderful," which had been the unofficial state slogan since the early 1970s.

Let's face it. West Virginia is a pretty wild place. Nearly 80 percent of our surface area is wooded. A million white-tailed deer roam our forests. An estimated 12,000 black bears prowl the hills and hollows. Foxes and bobcats and coyotes visit our backyards.

When an opportunity arose to name the state animal, we could have bestowed that honor upon the whitetail. It's the critter that gets the most attention from hunters, and hunting funnels millions of dollars into business owners' pockets.

Likewise, when we chose a state fish, we could have chosen the smallmouth bass. It's the fish species West Virginia is best known for, and arguably the most popular. People come from all around the country to catch smallmouth from the Elk, New, Greenbrier, South Branch and Potomac rivers.

We didn't choose the deer, though, and we didn't choose the smallmouth. We chose the black bear to be the state animal, and we chose the brook trout to be the state fish.

Why? Maybe they better symbolize the state's wild nature. Bears are predators; they're big and powerful and can pose a threat. Brook trout are found in some of the state's remotest places and only in its cleanest, coldest waters.

The timber rattler possesses similar attributes. Unlike the more common copperhead, which we often find near our homes, the rattler shows up mostly in places humans seldom frequent. The rattler is West Virginia's largest poisonous snake, and its venom is far more potent than a copperhead's.

When people get bitten by copperheads, doctors almost never treat the victims with antivenin. The poison is so mild, and so little of it is usually injected, that doctors instead prefer to treat the individual symptoms - swelling, hemorrhaging, etc. - rather than trying to counteract the venom itself.

Rattlesnake bites are another matter. Doctors tend to pump a rattler-bite victim full of antivenin, especially if the snake was large or if the bite's location allowed the venom to spread quickly through the victim's circulatory system.

Another argument in the rattler's favor is that there isn't much reptilian competition. Some might argue for the copperhead, the common-as-dirt black racer or the Eastern water snake. The box turtle might also get some votes.

My money is on the timber rattler.

Personal aside: Snakes give me the creeps. I've been struck twice by copperheads but escaped unharmed. One bounced off the sole of my boot and the other misjudged its aim and glanced off my sneaker top. Both scared the bejabbers out of me.

Still, I'd love to see this bill pass. Having the timber rattler as our official state reptile would, in yet another way, validate West Virginia's wild status.

Maybe someday we could even persuade the good folks at the Division of Natural Resources to design a rattler-themed wildlife license plate. Not only would such a plate be cool, it might even scare tailgaters into keeping their distance.