“However, the real meanies are the little rattlers”
Meeting up with a hunting buddy in the southern New Mexico desert, i was approaching within talking distance as he sat on the tailgate. I stepped on a little 2 foot or smaller one. Instantly rattled and wrapped on my boot.
I let out a girl sound I didn’t even know I could make. The soles of my boots suddenly were about 3 feet in the air, and 5 feet sideways. Somewhere along the flight, we parted ways. Little bastard vanished into the grass.
We couldn’t find a bite.
Makes me sick to remember it. My buddy says it was the best experience of his life.
Actually lost an acquaintance to a rattler -- he kept some at the house and used to give them water by hand!!! Well one got oissed off and struck him. Been bit many times and he knew what to do, but it was one too many and this one got his heart. Sadly, his old lady found him on the ground.