Shootin' the Breeze

and random targets

Me and Pecos Bill

There are tall tales about Pecos Bill, a famous Texan, like my own trophy wife, Miss Sugar.  This here is a true tale about what I done, just like old Bill.  I done it at the urging of Miss Sugar.  I’d do anything for that gal.

The reason I am writing this now is that a good friend of mine called me to say he enjoyed reading Sharpshooter, which is a true story as well.  His only question was why I used any tool to kill that rattler I wrote about.  He asked that because, growing up with me and all, he is very aware of how quick I am.  So is Miss Sugar.  That got me thinking about what I done a few years back without no shovel, nor gun either.

If y’all have read some of my previous posts, you know that Miss Sugar and I live in a log cabin in Colorado.  Miss Sugar loves birds.  She feeds ’em and takes pictures of ’em.  Well, one time some birds built a nest on a light fixture above our front door.  It was pretty smart of them bird brains cuz that light is beneath our porch roof out of the rain.  Miss Sugar occasionally checked on the eggs in the nest and, after they hatched, she would hold a mirror above the nest so she could look at the baby birds per the photo above.

Well, one fine day as she checked on the bird nest, she saw something that bothered her a mite.  What she seen was a mean old snake climbing on the logs aiming toward them baby birds.  So, since I’m her hero and all, as reported in previous posts, she decided to casually mention to me that it appeared a snake was fixin to bother her favorite birds.

I caught her subtle drift.  As always, I come a runnin’.  What she had carefully described in colorful language was indeed true.  A damned snake was slithering up the house to the nest.  I did not have time to get a gun or tool.  My favorite gal was upset.  So I did what any fearless hero would do.  I grabbed that snake by the tail, swung it around and around with centrifugal force so it  could not bend back and bite me.  I knew what to do because I had read about Pecos Bill doing the same thing.

After a few swings around my head, Miss Sugar suggested that I quit showing off and let go.  Which I done.  I let go with an appropriate wrist motion, sending that snake off the porch a ways, where it landed on the ground.  I went down the porch steps to finish the job.  Miss Sugar confidently assured me that it was a bullsnake, not a rattlesnake.  They have similar patterns.  She called her brother Mike because he knows about stuff like that.  He agreed that it was surely a bullsnake.

Now there is a difference or two.  One is that bullsnakes do not have rattles.  Another is that they are not poisonous.

So I went over to the bullsnake.  Apparently, it held a grudge.  It coiled up, imitating a rattler.  It was so good at imitating that I imagined I could hear rattles.   It opened its mouth and flicked out its forked tongue in a threatening manner, revealing its fangs that Mike and Sugar knew were not poisonous.  Silly me.  I felt like a big old chicken.

If I was as brave as Pecos Bill, I’d of picked it up again, just for fun.  But since I already had saved the birds, I kilt it with that sharpshooter shovel I wrote about in my blog called Sharpshooter.

I cut the rattles off the bullsnake because everyone knows bullsnakes don’t have rattles.   This one had not gotten the memo.  At least it wasn’t poisonous.  That could have been dangerous.

What Pecos Bill did was very dangerous.  What I done was similar, but, like Mike told Sugar, was perfectly safe.   Those rattles almost fooled me.

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9 thoughts on “Me and Pecos Bill

  1. Sugar's Brother on said:

    HEY! I told her the difference, OVER THE PHONE! I never even saw the dang critter- so don’t go blamin me for a less-than-accurate EYE-DEE! 😉

  2. I am certainly not as confident about such things as you and I sure wish you were here to have saved me! lol But I can now tell the difference between rattlers and others now! What a hard lesson!

  3. I am very impressed that with the expert EYE-DEE (lol), you properly handled that harmless bullsnake with Pecos-macho. Of course, since you are in Colorado, I would have simply fed it some pot-laced cookies. ☺

    • The snake was probably confused about its identity. As a trans-species creature, it had rattles like a rattlesnake, but inside it thought of itself as a bullsnake. Had I known that, I could have avoided separating its head and rattles from its confused body. Then, after years of therapy, it could have had its rattles surgically removed and skin pattern transformed so as to look like a bullsnake and live as a bullsnake. Sugar and her brother discerned the inner identity. Like the insensitive feller I am, I treated it like a rattlesnake (after throwing it) based solely on the rattles. I judged that “book” by its cover. I see now that what I did was not politically correct. I am looking for a sensitivity group to join. Maybe there is an appropriate group in California where gentle people could accept me and help me discover who I am inside. I have always thought of myself as a Heisman Trophy winner deep inside, but people don’t accept me as a Heisman Trophy winner just because I am trapped in this body. The federal government should pay for me to have my knees fixed so I could be the Heisman winner I know I should be.

      • Perhaps that Jenner creature may have some prickers – I mean, pointers – for your confused state of body and mind. Otherwise, I do not recommend you traveling to California.

  4. My husband brought home the rattlers from a snake and set them in a clay saucer on our patio table. I swear, I think that rattle moved by itself, disconnected. Creepy.

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