Snake Season

Sorry, animal-lovers.  Y'all ain't gonna like this.

Walking down the trail between Attapulgus and Havana with my dog Tinker last week, I came about 3 feet from stepping straight on this diamondback and I was not amused.  

No warning.  

No rattle.  

Just a pair of sinister eyes and an ambush that almost succeeded in ruining the day for Tinker and I.  Tinker's already survived one rattle snake bite, and ever since we've decided to cut these things zero slack.

Too bad for the snake.  He was disguised well.  He almost won.  

One straight shot from my 12 gauge, though, and the trail was cleared of bad company.  He had 9 rattles.  A few assorted mammals out there in Booger Bay are now thanking me.

Yesterday at Whigham though, there was more proof that snake season is still with us.  JR was leading through what's left of the Beaver Pond, about 2 feet deep of water surrounded by deep grass.

All of a sudden, a genuine big-ass water moccasin is facing him down and heading in the wrong direction -- straight at the Attapulgus Gang.

We discussed various options for dealing with the obstreperous reptile, from contacting PETA to writing the EPA for permission to do a study on the feasibility of hiring the snake for oil spill cleanup.  Next thing we know, the damned thing is crawling up the inside of JR's front wheelwell -- and it disappears up inside his Polaris WHILE he is on it!  

Not cool.

All politically correct alternatives for dealing with this creature were scrapped.  As you can see from this video, the snake, like all who would thwart the Attapulgus Gang, was not the victor.

RIP, snakes.