Copperheads and Country Living.

So my dog comes limping up to the car yesterday afternoon with a hurt paw. A really hurt paw. We're talking sever swelling, blood, all the things that make you go "somebody attacked my dog! Some redneck attacked my dog just because she's from Tennessee and she has a really bad hair cut right now and she can't make friends as easily as some!"

Within seconds the AG scooped her up, put her in the back of the car and off we went to the vet. Which I felt was a little ironic due to the fact that...

a.) I was currently on the way to the dermatologist because I, too, had something wrong with my paw. Something had bitten me several weeks ago and I needed to go have it looked at and...

b.) Not only did the AG not scoop me up I think he partially backed out of the driveway before he realized I wasn't inside the car.

Men and their priorities.

So after slamming on the brakes and giving me the head nod to "go, get out" he drops me off in front of the dermatologist knowing full well that the bite on my foot could be so severe that they have to remove my foot or at least my pinkie toe or worse, I may never wear flip-flops again. And off he raced to the vet with the dog!!

Sheesh.

Well, come to find out our poor Sadie had been bit by a copperhead. Whereas all I had was a wart. The bad news? She may die. The good news? I'm back in flops.

Oh, I'm kidding. She's going to be fine thanks to the AG's reaction time. How quick he was when he thought that he might lose the only thing in his life that lays at his feet and likes to be scratched on the belly. His reaction to me was quite different...

"You didn't act near that fast with me, ya know. And I could have been dying."

"Oh geez, I know. Had I gotten you to the doctor one minute later an actual hair might have grown out of that thing!"

See what I have to put up with?

On our way back from the the vet The AG made this prediction, "What do you bet that by the end of the day today everyone in your family knows that Sadie was bit by a snake?" Of course I didn't take that bet because I knew darn well the man was right.

And he was.

At 7pm last night my aunt Melba called, "How is Sadie? I hear she got bit by a copperhead."

"Really, how did you hear that?"

"Well, your mom must have told Granny and Granny told Meridith and Meridith told Bubba. Bub mentioned it to Donald over dinner and then they told me when I got in from work."

'Nuff said. Never bet against The Attorney General.

And thanks to country living at it's finest my Granny has already worked out a plan for that snake - oh yes, sir, she has...

"Granny called Bubba and asked him to grab his gun and put on his waders. She thinks that snake is out back in the swamp behind Michelle's house."

"So Granny feels certain that the snake that bit Sadie is in the swamp behind Michelle's, even though we all live on some 30+ acres and it could be anywhere. And that said snake has been completely stationary since this afternoon around 1pm. And that Bubba will be able to track it down with nothing but waders and a gun?"

"Yep. You know how she thinks Bubba can do anything...like he's Native American or something."

And it's here that I became stumped as to what was more absurd: Granny's "call to action" or the fact that Melba finds Native Americans almost superhuman.

Yep folks, it's just another day in the 75904.