I woke up at 5am this morn to a sharp pain in my wrist. I touched it but there was nothing. As I laid longer the pain increased and I realized there was probably a scorpion in bed with me. I really didn’t wanna get up but I figured I had to. So I rose, turned on the light and pulled back the sleeping bag and sure enough there was a scorpion there, few inches long. We stared at each other a while, him stunned by the light, me stunned by how picturesque he was with that curled tail and those pinchers. What an interesting creature. And even more interesting – the feeling in my arm. The site of the sting was burning and there was a small lump there, and I was feeling tightness crawl up my forearm to my elbow.

I scooped up Gidget, left Cheyenne and grabbed a cup to put the bugger in to take him outside. After doing so I stood in the kitchen feeling the pain spread more, wondering if this was normal. Of course this happens the one weekend that everyone is out of town. Well I decided it was fine and went back to sleep. By the time I dozed off again it was nearly time to feed the horses, so they got their hay a little late and were waiting at the fence a bit concerned… or annoyed at 745.

I spent the day with Joe Cannon. What an interesting life he’s had. 80 years old and still rides every day. He used to be the cattle inspector in these parts and is literally a living legend. The stories he tells would totally live up to the romantic idea of cowboys in the old west.


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