Homecoming Miracle

Sometimes what does not happen is as miraculous and wonderful as what does. I actually remembered to close the snake room door when I left and that probably saved Pasht's life. Bette, my biggest python, got out while I was gone. I don't think Bette could swallow Pasht, but she could easily kill her.

Now, honestly, Pasht might deserve it, because she teases Bette. However, I love them both and don't want bad things for either of them. So, apparently Bette roamed the snake room and knocked some stuff over and then settled down on blanket by the window and watched the workmen build the screen room outside. (I'm sure I'll hear something about that later on.)

The other kids are enjoying the cooler air and their new treats out in the backyard. Bitty was amazing, she was fine at the kennel, glad to see me and glad to see "her backyard". For her, it was just another homecoming. What an amazing, resiliant little soul.

Horney Toads

Ok, they are technically horned lizards. I just bought 10 of em and I am going to breed them to return them to the wild and use them for educational exhibits. Of course, first I have to get them to survive and breed. Oh, details, details.

I haven't heard from Dr. Means regarding the blotched kingsnake project-I think he's in Europe, but Elvis is ready to do HIS part to save the species as well.

Now, these things have absolutely nothing to do with dogs, or do they? I think that herps make good pets and in many cases are appropriate where dogs are not. If you don't have a dog lifestyle, maybe you should think about a snake or a horned lizard.

What would Steve Irwin Do?

There is an old saying "when does a 10 foot snake go into a pillowcase?....whenever it wants to" The problem here is that Bette is just longer and stronger than I am. No packing has occured as I struggle, literally and figuratively with getting her highness into a pillowcase, trying not to upset the snake (who doesn't understand the movers are going to arrive any minute) and trying not to get bit (because I don't want to).

These are the facts-if Betty won't be coaxed, I can't force her...so I have to make her WANT to go into the pillowcase. Chasing her around the room until she flees into the pillowcase is not an option-I won't stress her out like that.

I've put the pillowcase around her bucket (which is really a poop shoot from a porta potty-a bottomless bucket. Now I just have to convince her that crawling in is a good idea-she loves to curl up in that bucket but with me in the room she is far more interested in me than curling up for a nap.

I tried to put light in the tank-hah-she just basked under it. So, I turned the light off and am cooling down the house. (Baby snakes are outside on the patio.) Steve-o always had good luck catching reptiles when it was chilly outside.

This is one stubborn girl-now she's curled up outside the bucket. Get in the bucket Bette.

Steve was always patient-so I just shut the door to the bedroom and turned off the light so she can't see me pack. That way I can continue to work while she decides to go get in the bucket. (This insight came after an entire night of trying to coax a python into a bucket/bag.....)

I will be patient. I will not be dismayed because it is raining cats and dogs and my carboard boxes are out in the truck and my largest snake is still unsecured for travel. (She IS still secured in a tank so it could be worse.) I have body odor beyond belief-THAT never shows up in all those fancy schmanzy wildlife shows. And I absolutely will NOT fall into the mea culpa act of why on earth did I get such a big snake-I wanted her and I DO want her and I love her to bits. It's not the end of the world if I can't coax her into a pillowcase by 9 am.

SHE is going into the case so she can travel safely-Steve would never just toss her into a box and hope she stays put. Steve-if you are up there-would you mind giving Bette a little nudge towards the bucket??????

The Caravan

So, the spots are in Oklahoma, the bigguns and the snakes and the cats are with me in Dallas-going to go OKC tomorrow to inspect floor, deliver furniture to Uncle John's apt. and drop the bigguns off at the kennel. Back to Dallas for Packing and to move Uncle John. Back to OKC. Back to Dallas to collect snakes, cat and furniture and move all to OKC.

Point is-moving with animals is complicated and expensive. It is probably more complicated and expensive if you are ME and don't like upsetting the dogs with people moving furniture-they always go to the kennel because it just freaks them out so bad. Yes, I COULD put them in a crate, and I have, and I don't like it and they don't.

And that is the doggy public service message for today-add moving and life changes to your list of things that should be considered when buying/adopting a cute little puppy. My friend Sue is moving 2 large dogs and 5 cats to Florida-and getting her head around what is best for the cats (quick drive) and the elderly dogs (frequent stops for exercise/pee is a task. And like me, Sue loves her dogs, so she wants the move to be as easy as possible for them.

Pasht sees the boxes and KNOWS and she is not a happy kitty. She hates moving because the cat is always the last thing loaded and that stresses HER out. The snakes, well, they couldn't care less. They are used to going in bags, boxes for cleaning and I doubt they will notice when they come out of the bag/box that the tanks are in Oklahoma City instead of Dallas. But I have labeled each one to make sure they go back into their tank with THEIR smells in it....yes, I do love my animals.

Social Conflict

I just realized keeping the canines in the same room with the Wild Caught Python is probably stressing out the snake. Poor old Alfred doesn't know the difference between a cape hunting dog and a chihuahua. The captive hatched don't seem to care either way. But I will move the dogs into the spare room, along with me and then sleep in the main room with the snakes when I have guests.

It's important that the dogs and I sleep in the same room-at least to me it is and I think it is to them. I don't think the snakes care, but I promised I would not put snakes in the guest room, so I won't.

I may move my super wonderful mattress into the "guest" room, and then buy a good twin for the snake/main bedroom. Then I can get more snakes......ha ha ha.

Newsworthy Items

Read about the escape and recapture of Alfred Hitchcock on www.serroscotty.blogspot.com warning-there are nude photos.


I'm hoping the rain stops so I can go trade Cody's new harness for one that fits his porky little self.

Scales and Tails

Greta is 10.5 pounds, up a bit, but she was thin when I got her, and after all the surgery stuff I think she’s just about right. Mr. Cody is 9.5; he weighed 7.5 when I got him and was at a good weight. Clearly, his racing career is in jeopardy.

I think the culprit is the cat box, gross as that may be. So, I must set about with a plan to elevate the cat box. The terms of my lease specify that cat boxes must be on linoleum (not on the hardwoods). As I searched in my mind for the perfect poo platform for Pasht, I realized I already had one-the new snake rack. She likes it anyway because it is warm, and flat and the top is up “high”, about 4 feet. It’s wide enough to provide a good solid support for her so I won’t need to add rails. Problem solved.

Getting two wiggly, one fearful (Cody) and one sometimes aggressive (Greta) dogs up a set of steps and into the vets/kennel was a trial. Let’s just say it is not a good idea to start up the steps with one dog under your arm (Cody’s collar was chewed up) and one dog on the lead (Greta) and one hand on the walker. Fortunately, someone saw my plight and came and grabbed Cody, once in inside we got settled and Greta was a good girl, even being handed off to the male vet tech. GO Greta! However, that ordeal sucked out all the positive, calm assertive I energy I have left for the day. Well, maybe not.

Before even leaving the house, I set up a warm, wet hide (revamped dog carrier) for Alfred Hitchcock-who is shedding. He’s not a hissy, striking shedder, instead he curls up in a round fat ball with his head on top making sure that you notice he is uncomfortable and completely and utterly miserable. Too miserable to move to make room for the hide; and completely unable to actually crawl into the hide. Hooking and lifting about 10+ pounds of miserable snake into a box with no help whatsoever from the snake is challenging. He is the perfect picture of someone who has made it to the top of the food chain, he OWNS his space, and expects respect and servitude from those who enter it.

Bette Davis observed this with complete disdain. She’s very catlike, and anything that doesn’t directly impact her must be observed with utter disregard. She also crawls into her water tray and soaks HERSELF when she’s shedding-she doesn’t wait for someone to help her. I love Bette. Her new “husband” is arriving this weekend but I will have to do the same soul searching to figure out if I can actually part with the hatchlings.

The same goes for the Balls-I adore She, and Zsa Zsa and feisty Eva-future brides of Alfred. I am actually trading Alice Cooper to a local snake friend because I can’t bear the idea that he won’t be allowed to breed if he stays with me.

I’m just not cut out for the “business” of animals. I’ll return on Sunday with new tales and pictures of the Spotties and Dolly.

Contentment

Ah, another rainy night (last night, Thursday) spent listening to the thunder and cuddling with the doggies....I’m such a decadent creature. Of course Cody came in from the outside a little wet and proceeded to dry himself on my pillow, but he did it with such good natured exuberance I couldn’t complain.

Greta got down to the serious business of chewing on a new bone. She’s been a great teacher through this whole surgery process. She never wakes up and says “I don’t think I’ll do doggy things today because I have a bad hip”....she just gets up and goes at it, limp and all.

Dogs, as a rule, just don’t DWELL on things. They state their opinions and move on.

Bette Davis finally shed her skin. In fact, I got bit startled when I leaned down to open the crates and was face to face with her. She’s been a bit of a crank during the shedding process, but now she is out and about and ready to be admired once more. Let’s just say Bette is a shedder in the same way Elvis is-they are miserable, they want you to know it and leave them alone, all at once. I actually opened the viv and poked her to make sure she was still alive the other day-and I have done the same thing with Elvis. But, when you are a superstar, I supposed drama is to be expected.

A thief in the night...

Mr. Cody was curled up on the floor beside my bed when I woke up. Now how he got out, and why Greta didn't raise the alarm remains a complete mystery. He doesn't like the snakes in the room and I can't believe it goes back to that unfortunate incindent last summer.

When Cody was new to my house, and still very aloof and jumpy, he found a grass snake and I ran over to look at the snake. I used my ankle (not kicking) to push Cody back and bent to pick up the snake, who shot up my bare leg instead of heading away like a reasonable serpent. I shouted and did a little snake dance and Cody ran for the hills.

In the house I don't encourage a lot of dog/snake interaction because most of the snakes would be snack size for dogs and I just don't think a snake has the mental facilities to form a friendship with a predator.

Pasht (the old cat) and Elvis (kingsnake) do have a fascination for each other, but Pasht is too old to care about killing things and Elvis seems to regard her as the Mount Olympus of Mice...too big to really tackle, but oh how he dreams.

Snakes

Lots of activity preparing for the new Jamp, rearranging cages, etc. and some deliveries.

Snake Population (as of next Monday)
Elvis-Blotched Kingsnake (goini) my first, my most outgoing, truly the king
Scarlett-albino (no black, only yellow, pink and orange) cornsnake-the sweetheart
Andy Warhol-snow (white, pink and some yellow (ehh dirty snow?) cornsnake-he's silly
Alice Cooper-Ball python, about 2-3 years old, traded my mean old kingsnake Foster for him. I got the best end of the deal, he's sweet
2 Ball Pythons with lots of white on them-no names yet, they are babies. The guy was so nice about delivering them I just bought two-I have an extra cage and they are pretty. And yes, one is a boy and one is a girl, but babies would be years down the line (and impossible unless I cage them together).
Jampea Dwarf Reticulated Python-no name yet-she'll tell me who she is when it's time.

Elvis, the Balls and the Jamp are not endangered species, but their habitat is being threatened, they are sub species so not likely to get a lot of people who care. Elvis is from a small section of Florida, the Balls were threatened in Africa until they got smart and started farming them, the Jamp is from an Indonesia Island-one Island only.

Now, I honestly can't tell you why I care, but for some reason I do. Everything in the world needs some one who cares, I will be our lady of the snakes, and the ugly dogs, and the things that no one else wants. Maybe that's it, sometimes I feel like a snake-misunderstood, could be dangerous but not really, and worth knowing. And once I bought a pair of python cowboy boots, and I feel really bad about that now. So maybe I am paying back a kharmic debt or something.

Do you think she'll notice?

Mom has gotten pretty laid back about the snakes, even letting me take them out of their vivs to show her. I really thought I was done, but then I came across a not to be missed deal on a Jampea Dwarf Retic. Of course, for a Retic, Dwarfs are about 6-10 foot long. I'm just not going to say anything and when they come next there will a new viv. The trouble is, she's started counting them when she comes in now....

Eulogy for a Mouse

Mousey is no longer with us.

I purchased Romeo and Juliette in a misguided attempt to grow snake food. The cats bided their time until I went to work and quietly dismantled the cage and, I assumed ,the mice. But then I saw one little furry under the fridge, so I sat out some food until I could purchase a live trap. Unfortunately, the mouse was a noisey eater and the kitten fit in the space between the fridge and the sink......

Mousey squeaked, I shouted "don't bite don't bite" and chased the cat down, cleverly shoved my thumb down his throat and caused him to spit out the mouse, no worse for the wear. I thought it must be Juliette and I hastily built a deluxe cage out of Elvis's feeder cage and sometime in that process Juliette went from food to pet.

Only I never was sure if she was a he or vice versa-to be blunt, the creature had aspects of both. My mom said we should call it Victor/Victoria, but I always just referred to it as Mousey. Mousey got a salt lick and a new exercise wheel for Christmas. I know Mousey enjoyed that wheel to the end-at least all night last night.

But, alas, when I went to check on Mousey after tucking in the dogs, there was no movement and it was uncharacteristically curled up in the center of the cage. I did the proper post mortem, looking for wounds (although who could have wounded it?), signs of diaherrea (I fed it spring mix the other night) and lastly, starvation-there was an adequate amount of meat on the cold little bones. No trauma and no starvation, Mousey just curled up and died.

And strangely enough, I felt sad. What IS the difference between food and friend? I kill or caused to be killed 4 or more such creatures a week to feed the snakes and don't feel particularly bad about it all. In spite of being a former vegetarian, I really didn't feel guilty about eating the chicken I had for lunch. It's all a part of the cycle of life, predator, prey. But I chose Mousey for something else-friend.

Maybe that's what we all want-for someone to choose us for friend. Pikachu-I choose YOU! Maybe the difference between terrorist and hero is a matter of choice in the eye of the beholder. Yet, it somehow seems out of the natural order of things-we aren't supposed to prey on each other. (Elvis the kingsnake begs to differ and when he can type he is invited to post a rebuttal).

Mousey, I think, became friend when I snatched him from the jaws of death in the form of a mighty hunter kitten. At that moment he ceased to be an irritating livestock problem and was transformed into something that I had a connection with. In the heat of the moment I just lost my head and FELT something.

Isn't that what friendship is?

Fortunately for the snakes, it didn't transfer to all rodent kind, so there will be mouse on the menu again. But not THIS Mouse. THIS Mouse will achieve a proper trashbin burial.