Rattlesnakes.Sorry I don’t like them.Any snake for that matter.Dead or live doesn’t make any difference.Living in Standing Rock,Alabama as a boy of 4 years old I had an encounter with a rattler.The front yard was all sand.Walking down the tall steps of the house reaching the bottom step coiled up ready to strike was a snake,a rattler.If it frightened me I cant recall but it terrified my folks.In quick order the snake was dealt extreme prejudice.They killed it with a hoe.Maybe my fear of snakes was inherited from my parents.Momma’s sister Lema was bitten by a rattler and almost died.Once Daddy took me hunting.We were leaning up against a tree.It was fall and the ground was covered with leaves.From a distance I seen something moving through the leaves.It was a snake,it’s tongue flickering heading straight for us.Daddy I see a snake.That’s all it took.He out ran me back to the car.And he was the one with a gun.
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