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>making final preparations to go duck hunting for the first time since season opened
>friend was supposed to meet me at my house at 3 AM
>by 330, hes still not here
>call him, he obviously was just waking up
>after a brief "wtf" talk, he tells me hes not up to it because sick
>decide fuck it, because already got everything packed
>drive to spot (two hours, two locked gates only members of my conservation group have the keys for)
>finally in area I typically hunt in
>its empty, fuck year
>park truck under tree
>put on waders, throw out decoys
>rebuild favorite blind a little bit
>load up shotgun, set out cooler
>set up chair, reach into pocket for cigar
>feel a pinch on my ankle through my boot
>FUCKINGSNAKE.JPG
>mouth opened wide around my ankle
>pull out .357 from shoulder holster
>dump all six rounds, miraculously not blowing my leg off
>I know I hit it at least once, because it was flailing around, but going nowhere
>start stomping the fuck out of the snake
>idk how long, but just stomped the fuck out of the snake until my shin started to hurt
>stop stomping snake
>shaking, breathing heavy, heart beating hard, and scurred and panicked
>see shotgun leaning against tree stump
>walk towards shotgun with outstretched arms, zombie style
>grab shotgun, dump three rounds into snake
>reload, dump another three
>give it a few more stomps
>calm down, pack my shit up
>drive the fuck out of there
Never duck hunted alone since. If he fucker had gone all the way through my boot, I would have been so fucked, because I would have had to drive at least 45 mins to the nearest town (or even cell phone service), getting out twice to unlock and lock back up the gates, driving my vehicle with my left foot only.
Fuck snakes. I kill 'em all now. I even go out of my way to kill them.
pic related, it was a rattler
