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Note: This is another one of our blogs of no social or political significance that give on the scene reporting of true life adventures of an involuntary monk in the wilderness. I guess supporters of copperhead snakes and chipmunks might send me raving letters, but that should be about it.
Well, in effort to de-energize the Tiger Pups, so as to avoid another night of partying in the living room, I took them back to the old L & N railroad right of way for nice six mile hike. That's where the other day, Lady MacBeth snacked on two chipmunks, who were stupid enough to run up my legs and hide under my shorts. Again, I warn readers not to try this stunt at home. Only professional nature lovers are qualified to jump up and down on a abandoned railroad track and scream four letter words in terror. One reader commented that the chipmunks were just hunting for nuts and not bothering a soul. Ho-ho-ho
Well, anyway McIntosh, Rob Roy and Lady MacBeth instantly recognized that we were headed to the place where they enjoyed chipmunk yummies earlier this week. They were so excited that forewent their traditional splash in the swimming hole under the railroad trestle, where the herons and wood ducks live. They looked down at the cool waters of the trout stream, and then said "nah--h-h-h." In their minds were dreams of southern fried chipmunk, chipmunk fetacini, baked chipmunk with yams, barbecued chipmunk, and Peking chipmunk.
The three stalwart mountain dogs bolted ahead at about 35 mph. Then when they reached the Restoranted delas Chipmunks, I saw a cloud of dust. The dogs had stopped in their tracks.
Curious as to why they would be thwarted in their desire for culinary delight, I sprinted ahead myself. Before me was the answer. A massive King Snake at least seven feet long was wrapped like a noose around a poisonous Copperhead Snake. The Copperhead was in his or her death throws. I also noticed two bulges on the King Snake that strongly suggested he had recently consumed two chipmunks. I guess with winter coming, he wanted to top off the meal with a Copperhead dessert.
My Alpha dog, Rob Roy, requested time out from the referees, and called us together for a team meeting. All three dogs voted for having chicken spaghetti at home tonight, rather than dining on chipmunks at the outdoor cafe. They turned around and headed home. Descretion was the better part of valor.
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