Yesterday morning started out as usual. I got up around 6 a.m., shaved, washed my face and brushed my teeth. I then made my bed and went out to feed ole Howdy and Gabe, the two horses on the place. I was still half asleep as I wandered into the garage to back out the truck so I could make it to the T Bar Inn for coffee with my buddies.

It was really cool and we had a brief storm the night before with a little bit of rain and I do mean a little bit. I raised the garage door by hand as that’s the only way it will go up. I don’t have an automatic door opener. I backed out the truck, went back into the garage and pulled the door down.

As I turned to go out the walk-out door in the back, my eye caught something that didn’t look right. You know how it is when you realize something is maybe out of its regular place? It’s very dim in the garage and without benefit of my glasses, I stepped forward and took a look at what appeared to be an old oily rag or maybe a cowpie. A COWPIE? What’s a cowpie doin’ in my garage right next to the runner the door goes up and down in?

It wasn’t a cowpie at all; it was a RATTLER! Yep, I could hardly believe it myself but I guarantee you I was a wide awake ole cowboy. The handle to the garage door is on the side of the door next to the runner, so I had to stand within inches ” and I do mean inches ” of this ole buzzer to open and close the door.

He rattled not one time. He was so flat against the floor and so tightly coiled that I just failed to spot him so close to me. I got a shovel and dispatched him, cut off his head, buried it and tossed him over in the pasture. I figure that he came in under a little opening at the bottom of the door when the storm hit and spent the night. The only reason he didn’t hit me, I believe, was because he was so cold he decided he would just stay tucked up and try to avoid being seen.

After telling my daughter, Sunni, about this little episode, she called me this morning with a really cute prayer that my little 6-year-old granddaughter, Kailee, prayed last night. After she thanked God for her mom, dad, brother, and getting to play with her friends that day, she asked, “… and God, PLEASE DON’T HAVE ANY MORE RATTLESNAKES IN MIND FOR MY GRANDPA!”

I gotta tell you gentle readers, I have to have some of the sweetest little grandkids on the face of the earth and I thank God for them every day.

Stay tuned, check yer cinch on occasion, look for those ole rattlers, and I’ll c. Ya.