“Get in the truck!” “Yikes, not with that fat old sidewinder poised and ready to strike!” After I shot this picture I tackled the little vermin, grabbing him (I verified it was a him) I wrestled it into submission. Without anything else in frame for reference it might be hard to tell, but this rattler was more than 20 feet long and was fatter than a pot-bellied pig. After pinning it, I whipped out my Bowie knife (I typically have one strapped to my calf) and cut off the rattler, and skinned this critter right there in the street. Tomorrow I’ll show you the swell belt I’ll be making from its liberated skin, but tonight we’ll be eaten fried rattler – tastes like Tofurkey.

A friend and I stopped at his home near Fountain Hills, Arizona to pick something up and looked in on his new horse who didn’t want to participate in being ogled. Of course, I was told what kind of horse it is and what its name was, but do I remember any of that as I sit here late in the evening picking at my brain for those details? Heck no. But I do remember his little fat goat with 4-inch legs whose name is Goat, although again, the breed is not to be found in my head.