Original Coors was lazily walkin down a narrow trail lined with tall green grass and flowers, with his nose nearly in ‘em and stretchin his upper lip toward ’em as far as it’d reach, on account of the bucket gal gave him such a loose rein. He likely had his eyes half-shut, ‘cause that’s his general demeanor even though he’s a Ayrab horse, and was also likely breathin in the sweet smell of it and lost deep in thoughts about grazin on it all day long. And, ‘cause he’s an Ayrab, I’m sure his thoughts were wanderin even farther afield than the flowers and the grass so he was barely payin any mind to his own hoof falls on the ground never mind the bucket gal in the saddle above…
When she near jerked the bit out of his mouth, pulled the reins, and squeezed his sides with her legs and made a sound like “Shiiiii–!” Coors nearly jumped out of skin sideways with her to avoid it, then swung around and pointed his ears to get a good look at it there in the grass at the edge of the trail, greyish white and coiled up to strike —
It was an old cotton lead rope.
He and she blew out from their nostrils, and I reckon they both licked their lips at the lack of a snake in the grass. That’s why the people say you got to “learn the ropes,” so you don’t mix ‘em up with snakes.