Blinking
In February of 1993, we attended a meeting of the New England Herpetological Society. I’m allergic to certain furry critters, but have always loved reptiles. While we were there, a snake breeder offered me a hatchling corn snake (Pantherophis guttatus guttatus), all red and orange and black with a black and white checked underbelly, for $10. I whipped out my wallet on the spot and bought the little fellow, no longer than a pencil, who seemed to want nothing more than to twine around my fingers.
The Unindicted Co-Conspirator was unhappy that I had purchased an animal without consultation. We’d been married less than six months earlier; she didn’t yet know that I can be a little impulsive where critters and computers are concerned. I handed her the snake, who immediately twined around her fingers, looking at her with bright, trusting, unblinking eyes. She melted immediately.
On the ride home, with the snake still cradled in her hand, we discussed names. The one that stuck was Pinkerton. First, for the unblinking eye that was the symbol of the Pinkerton Detective Agency. Second, because his diet was neonate mice, which are called pinkies. And last, for the snake-in-the-grass Lieutenant Pinkerton of Puccini’s opera Madame Butterfly.
We found Pinkerton a little two and a half gallon aquarium with a tight metal lid - there was nothing else he wouldn’t escape through. As he grew, the tanks grew larger until he was finally in a big 55 gallon breeding aquarium. He had a piece of cork bark to scratch and sun on, a hide box, a water bowl, and a heat lamp. (I attached a thermometer to the hide box.) That was enough. He rejected branches - he was a happy ground-dweller.
Snakes are interesting pets. They don’t ask much, and frankly they don’t give much unless you enjoy watching the graceful arch of the neck as a snake siphons water from a bowl or how perfectly they shed their skin. Snakes basically have a two-bit mind. One bit is devoted to “warm / not warm” and the other to “hungry / not hungry”. When mating season hits in early Spring, they swap out the hungry bit for “girl snake / not girl snake,” putting off eating until after mating season passed. (It took one shed cycle - about a month.)
The life expectancy of a corn snake is six to eight years in the wild, ten to fifteen in captivity. The oldest recorded corn snake lived to be 23. This was in a zoo - pet owners have claimed longer ages, but not by much. By any standard, he was a very, very old snake.
Pinkerton developed some sort of tumor in his lower abdomen, near his vent. It didn’t seem to bother him for a while - he still ate, but lately he has rejected food (he’d kill the mouse, but not eat it) and appears to be straining (and failing) to pass waste. It was time.
We took him to the local veterinary hospital this morning, which has a vet who handles exotics. A sedative was administered, and when he went to sleep, we left. It takes a long time to sedate a snake, and even longer to euthanize it. The vet explained she’d use an ultrasound to locate the heart, and inject the final mercy there so it would be quick.
We never had an emotional bond. Snakes aren’t warm and cuddly. So why am I blinking when I walk into the room and see the dark and empty tank?
The Unindicted Co-Conspirator was unhappy that I had purchased an animal without consultation. We’d been married less than six months earlier; she didn’t yet know that I can be a little impulsive where critters and computers are concerned. I handed her the snake, who immediately twined around her fingers, looking at her with bright, trusting, unblinking eyes. She melted immediately.
On the ride home, with the snake still cradled in her hand, we discussed names. The one that stuck was Pinkerton. First, for the unblinking eye that was the symbol of the Pinkerton Detective Agency. Second, because his diet was neonate mice, which are called pinkies. And last, for the snake-in-the-grass Lieutenant Pinkerton of Puccini’s opera Madame Butterfly.
We found Pinkerton a little two and a half gallon aquarium with a tight metal lid - there was nothing else he wouldn’t escape through. As he grew, the tanks grew larger until he was finally in a big 55 gallon breeding aquarium. He had a piece of cork bark to scratch and sun on, a hide box, a water bowl, and a heat lamp. (I attached a thermometer to the hide box.) That was enough. He rejected branches - he was a happy ground-dweller.
Snakes are interesting pets. They don’t ask much, and frankly they don’t give much unless you enjoy watching the graceful arch of the neck as a snake siphons water from a bowl or how perfectly they shed their skin. Snakes basically have a two-bit mind. One bit is devoted to “warm / not warm” and the other to “hungry / not hungry”. When mating season hits in early Spring, they swap out the hungry bit for “girl snake / not girl snake,” putting off eating until after mating season passed. (It took one shed cycle - about a month.)
The life expectancy of a corn snake is six to eight years in the wild, ten to fifteen in captivity. The oldest recorded corn snake lived to be 23. This was in a zoo - pet owners have claimed longer ages, but not by much. By any standard, he was a very, very old snake.
Pinkerton developed some sort of tumor in his lower abdomen, near his vent. It didn’t seem to bother him for a while - he still ate, but lately he has rejected food (he’d kill the mouse, but not eat it) and appears to be straining (and failing) to pass waste. It was time.
We took him to the local veterinary hospital this morning, which has a vet who handles exotics. A sedative was administered, and when he went to sleep, we left. It takes a long time to sedate a snake, and even longer to euthanize it. The vet explained she’d use an ultrasound to locate the heart, and inject the final mercy there so it would be quick.
We never had an emotional bond. Snakes aren’t warm and cuddly. So why am I blinking when I walk into the room and see the dark and empty tank?