Care to join me for some rattlesnake wrangling?

It was around 7 o'clock Tuesday morning. I had been in the barn tending to the herd

since 6:30. George walked over to the end stall to poop, 

then planted himself next to the back door to take a nap. 

I fetched the wheelbarrow and moved into the stall to clean up his mess.

That's when I saw the rattlesnake for the first time. He was all coiled up like a cinnamon roll,

basking in the morning sun, not two inches away from George's left front hoof.

George was oblivious, the snake was oblivious, and I was incredulous.

I asked George to walk toward me and he wouldn't.

I pulled on his grazing muzzle to lead him toward me, but that wasn't happening either.

Meanwhile, the snake stayed all coiled up without a care in the world.

Finally, I lured George away with a cookie.

The snake slithered between the stall wall and the wire kick-panel.

I closed doors and gates to keep everybody out of the stall, then ran like hell to the garage

to fetch the snake pole, with a brief stop to pick up the GoPro because:
a) what's the point of having a head-cam if you're not going to use it at a moment like this?
and b) I knew some of you would want to come along for the adventure.