Never been bitten, but I might’ve when I was young—6 years old I think?—and we were on a family hike. My sister and I were way in front of our parents, and as I was skipping along my sister’s arm came out to her side, whacking me in the gut. I kept trying to push it away, but she wouldn’t let me budge. She just pointed out 10 feet from where we stood, and I kept grumbling and complaining, until I heard a sudden “sssssss” ... a baby rattlesnake had coiled up in the middle of the dirt road, directly ahead of me, almost the same color as the dirt, silent until the commotion of me fighting my sister startled it. Probably I would’ve walked right into it.
6th and 7th grade our class pet was a 7’ boa constrictor, Bobbi. She was the sweetest, most social creature, even for all the abuse she got (poor living conditions for most of her life, and a bunch of bratty middle schoolers poking at her.) She only bit once in those two years: the first day back from summer in 6th grade, after she had been left alone in the classroom without heat or food and basically no water, and was suddenly snatched out of her cage and harassed by a group of kids. The guy who got her teeth sunk into his forearm admitted he deserved it. Under normal conditions she seemed to love being out, draped over our shoulders, crawling about the little human jungle.