Inspiring | Relationships | Animals | Snakes

A Love Story of a Very Different Kind: Part 3

Yes, Virginia, snakes really do have personalities

“You cannot depend on your judgment when your imagination is out of focus.”

— Mark Twain

I understand that many people are frightened of snakes. And it’s true that sometimes, snake bites can be lethal.

However, it’s also true that it happens a lot less often than people think, and that snakes have an unwarranted terrible reputation. It’s easy to let our imaginations run away with us when fear and judgment are calling the shots.

And what would happen if you used your imagination to see beyond the fear and judgment? How might the world look then? How might it open up for you?

That’s why I’m writing this series about snakes in general, and about my little buddy, Bob, in particular.

Snakes are much misunderstood and maligned. It doesn’t help that many cultures have a negative Biblical narrative running through their collective subconscious saying that snakes are evil. Nor is it useful to hear nasty people referred to as “snakes.”

If you had met Bob, you couldn’t possibly have called him evil or nasty. He had so much character! He was sweet and funny, full of mischief, and had loads of personality. Those piercing dark eyes would have looked right through you, making you certain he knew every one of your deepest, darkest secrets.

And at the same time, his lovely, gentle energy would have reassured you that he would keep every one of them safe, and never betray you.

Any time I took him with me when I was visiting snake breeder friends, or to see a vet, they always commented on how unusually bright, alert and curious he was.

And even though snakes bond with their owners, they also commented on how very attached to me he was. Much more so than usual for a snake.

On the subject of his curiosity…

One day, my (now former) husband, “Mr. X,” was putting together a cabinet for me. He was doing it on the floor of my office, where Bob’s tank was. Bob was extremely interested in the proceedings, watching every move Mr. X made.

At one point, Mr. X moved to the other side of the cabinet, blocking Bob’s view. Bob went to the opposite end of his tank straining sideways so he could see what was going on.

And sure enough, when Mr. X went back to his original position and blocked Bob’s view again, Bob went back to the other side so he could see.

When it came to meeting new people, typical of snakes he was naturally timid. However, unusually he was also curious about them. If I was holding him draped around my shoulders, he felt braver to extend his upper body and check out someone he didn’t know.

He was eight feet long when fully grown so he could stretch quite far while still having four to five feet of himself safely wrapped around Mummy’s shoulders.

I could see how much he trusted me every time he met someone new. He knew I wouldn’t allow anyone near him who would hurt him, although sometimes, he’d do a sudden U-turn and retreat to the safety of my hair. It was the Bob version of a little kid yelling, “Mummy!” and running to grab his mother’s legs and hide in her skirt.

But after a minute or two, he would slowly return to see who the new person was. And he would always let them hold him for a few minutes.

Because of his gentle, inquisitive nature and those bright eyes, people found him to be quite engaging. They began to understand what I meant about him having loads of personality. I always said if he had been a person, he’d have been a six-year-old boy in overalls, spending his days outside exploring and doing little-boy things.

And his pockets would have been filled with frogs, rocks, and other little-boy treasures.

His tank was always a disaster. With great regularity, he overturned his hideout, messed up the towel, dumped his water bowl (except when curling up under it to try to hide…go figure…), scattered his toys all over the place — and generally kept it looking like he’d had a party in there.

A Bit About Boas

I had other snakes eventually, too, and none of them did any of this to their tanks. In fact, there was one…one of my Colombian boa constrictors, Fluffy, who was terrified of everything, rarely left his hideout, and whose “room” (tank) was always neat as a pin. You’d never have known anyone was in there.

While I’m on the subject of boas, they are one of the best snakes to have as pets because they’re docile and are quite happy to be handled. They’re stocky, heavy snakes and are content to have you drape them along the back of your sofa while you watch telly together.

They’re easygoing and good-natured, and lovely to hold. Bob was a more active snake, typical of his breed, but the boas would just curl up on your lap or around your shoulders and not move.

There is something wonderfully calming and soothing about holding a snake. Yes, really. No, I’m not kidding.

Here’s a prime example of that: By the time I grew up, my childhood music teacher, Irene, had become highly successful. She had a couple of enormous music stores with studio facilities for several teachers. My daughter, Willow, was taking piano lessons from one of them.

While waiting for Willow during her lesson one day at the music store, I chatted with Irene and the long story made short is that she admitted to being utterly terrified of snakes. I convinced her to meet “Binky,” one of my boas, during Willow’s next lesson, saying she didn’t even have to touch him.

The following week, I took Binky along to meet Irene during the half-hour lesson. He and I sat on one side of Irene’s massive desk while she was quite happy to stay on the other. After watching him with me for a few minutes, she commented on how calming it was just watching him.

Shortly after that, she asked if she could touch him.

She was astonished at how beautifully soft he was. It’s difficult to describe the feeling of snake skin; it’s definitely not slimy. It is dry and slightly textured and feels absolutely wonderful.

Irene was also amazed at how soothing and relaxing it was to stroke him. It put her at ease almost immediately.

Within minutes, she had my boa draped behind her neck and across her shoulders. By the end of Willow’s half-hour lesson, Irene was wandering all over her shop wearing Binky like a “feather boa” and showing her staff her “new mascot.”

And did I mention how gorgeous boas are? Below is a photo of Fluffy (not fully grown yet) playing in my hair. Snakes love hair; perhaps it’s “hair envy,” haha.

Or maybe they just enjoy the feel of hair the way people enjoy the feel of snakes.

More About Bob

When Bob was little (up to about three feet long, or one metre), there were a few times he played “belt” by literally going through some of the belt loops on my jeans and staying around my waist while I moved through my house doing dishes etc. I usually wore a sweater/cardigan so he was mostly hidden, which snakes love — and rat snakes in particular.

Another fave — although it didn’t last long because he was growing well — was that I sometimes wore overalls at home. They had large, deep pockets and for a while, Bob could crawl inside and curl up while I sat (legs outstretched) and read.

For a few years, I had a television on top of the wardrobe in my bedroom. I would sit on my bed and Bob would climb up the front of me, slipping under my sweater at the shoulder and disappearing down the sleeve. He would peek out the wrist and stare up at the television, enjoying the movement and colour.

Thinking he was hiding, he didn’t realise that there were a few feet of him hanging down the front of me and not tucked into the sleeve of my sweater.

I tried various recommended floor coverings for my snakes’ tanks, rolls of newspaper (unprinted), wood shavings (terrible, especially during feeding), even paper towels. I settled on bath towels. I folded them in half for extra thickness. They were soft, comfy, and washable.

Out of all my snakes, Bob was the only one who saw the potential in his lovely floor coverings. He stopped sleeping in his hideout and instead, began tucking himself in every night by crawling under his towel until he was completely covered.

Actually, to be specific, he crawled between the two layers of towel…as if he were climbing between the sheets on a bed.

Like his Mum, he took his time about getting out of bed in the morning. He liked to wake up slowly, same as I did. On the rare occasion I got up first, I’d see this:

He went to bed a lot earlier than I did most nights and I was often still sleeping when he woke up. As I began to wake, I’d get the distinct feeling I was being watched. I would pry open one eye, glance across the room and see this:

Yes, my little pal was adorable. Such fun. And the sweetest energy you could ever hope to experience. I loved him more than I could ever put into words.

But all was not roses for our journey together. Oh, no. Things were going to become quite turbulent and my sweet Bob would pay a hefty price…

Continued in Part 4:

Enjoy this lovely break with Kaz Rochford as she takes you on beautiful journey…

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