speaking of snakes

Ok, while I might not have been speaking of snakes, I did use the word snake in the previous post.

Today, at lunch time, I ran to Walmart. If we want to be literal about it, I walked to Walmart. The college is just a couple of blocks away. Instead of walking clear down to the street, I cut across country. It's shorter. It's also a prairie dog town.

Snakes like to eat prairie dogs.

Prairie dog towns are full of holes.

Snakes like to hide in holes.

No, I didn't step in any holes.

I was almost to Hobby Lobby, which is on my way to Walmart. I was almost to the pavement, thinking to myself:

"Self :), you did really well, you didn't fall down, you didn't step in any holes, you weren't attacked by any Killer Prairie Dogs, and you didn't see any snakes....O [expletive deleted]."

There he was, a big old fat snake. Not five feet away. Between me and the parking lot. I froze.

I froze cause I couldn't breath, cause I'd exhaled all my air with that expletive word that I said.

The big old fat snake didn't move.

"Maybe it's dead."

I took a step to the right, stepped around the prairie dog hole, and moved forward, my eyes glued to that very long big fat snake.

He still didn't move.

I decided he must be dead, so I went on my way, looking at that snake instead of where I was going.

And, danged if I didn't almost trip over a dead prairie dog laying in front of me. I think he died of a heart attack when he saw that big old hairless snake. The Prairie dog smelled. And he was rather...bloated. And he just about finished off what the snake started. Where the snake made me stop breathing, the prairie dog kept me from wanting to breath!

Note: the following answers are for the men-folk in my life with the unspoken questions...

No, I did not look closer to see if the dang dead snake was really dead. And, no, I did not look to see if it was a rattle snake or a bull snake. No, I did not notice the pattern. It was brown and brown and lighter brown. Yes, it could have been diamonds. I didn't pay attention, I was tryin' to breath.

No, I did not look for his rattles, so I don't know if someone removed them. No, I didn't look for the head, it might have been attached, it might not have.

Yes, I'd guess he was a good 4 feet long. No, he wasn't coiled. He was folded in half. Yes, I'm pretty sure he was dead. I think he was almost as bloated as the prairie dog. If not, he was a good 6 to 8 inches in diameter. Which is why I didn't get closer.

Dang it, I don't know anything else! I don't care what kind it was, it tried to kill me by just being there. If you really want to know , go look for yourself. Hobby Lobby...north side of the parking lot...near the hole in the fence...2 feet away from the prairie dog who's lying on his back sunning himself....