REXANO exotic wild animal husbandry snake boa love

Boa Love
By Raven Simons, October 2007

Cowboy first came to me as a wee pencil sized snake. My children had all flown the coop and my husband had promised that once that all of our dependents had vacated the premises I could have a snake.

I fell in love with snakes when I read Vonda McIntyre’s “Dreamsnake”. “Of Mist, Grass, and Sand” was an award-winning novella that allowed her to expand the story into a full-length book. This is an out of print title, but well worth the read.

It was a few years later when I found a green snake in a pet store. I purchased him/her and set up a herpetarium. My ex-occupant made it abundantly clear that next to mes’cans, the “N” word, and homos, snakes were worthy of the ultimate elimination from the Earth. Sad to say that he was a self-proclaimed bigot of all things human and animal. He even protested the existence of certain vegetables that he claimed to despise. I think that he would have found kinship in the arms of the extreme Animal Rights/Animal Extinctionists.

I named my green (grass snake) Grass. He dined on crickets and mealworms and would adorn my wrist with obvious pleasure. Grass was named after the Dreamsnake that motivated the plot of Vonda’s book. Sadly most folks thought that “Grass” was named after the herb Cannabis Sativa but I was not a doper seeking solace in a snake name. I was just a reader with an overactive imagination.

Grass was “disappeared” when I divorced the ex-occupant father of my children. I had lingered too long in a violent marriage. Why was I surprised that Grass was gone? The ex had complained every time I handled Grass. He would claim that Grass made lewd and obscene movements on my wrist. Sadly it was to be many years before I would have another snaky pet. By the way, I have to credit my good friend Butch for the term “Occupant”. As writer William S. Burroughs was known to say, “That’s good enough to steal!”

Take a moment to time warp forward to a year (actually 2006) after the children are grown up, gone, and have reproduced. As the nest empties a funny thing happens. Perhaps you have heard the phrase “nature abhors a vacuum”? Well, I can tell you first hand that there is some kind of gravity like truth to this saying. I have cleared space, time and time again, only to see it filled with stuff like junk mail and my untidy way of “organizing” paperwork. When life leaves a space, life likes to return in spades. In place of the two grown boys who left home, a myriad of creatures came to take their portion of the not-so-disposable income.

There is no such thing as a “free pet”. Repeat this phrase at least three times while clicking your sneakers together. The animal I paid the smallest amount of money for was a local “rescue”. Her name is Velvet and she is a black, domestic, medium length hair cat. You can see a photo of her if you look at the REXANO reptile photo section. She is posing with her Boa buddy, Cowboy.

Velvet cost about $100.00 in adoption fees. Of course, this was fine with me as it included shots, spay, and a health check from my trusted veterinarian. Consider the love that would be returned, a real bargain. Velvet could have been a poster child. Her sad life, rescued from a well-publicized fire, and all the rest of the drama, could easily have filled the coffers of those organizations that survive on donations and high profile stories.

I like the rescue/foster group that placed Velvet. They downplayed the media’s BS about the “Fire Cats”. They said that the woman who had Velvet did not fit the “cat hoarder” profile”, even though the woman had many cats (more media BS), and they were honest about Velvet’s not-always-so-nice disposition.

I do not consider myself a “pet philanthropist”. I do not tout the sad stories of the “rescues” that I have purchased. Most of my life I have bought pedigreed purebred animals and have always felt good to do so. I choose my pets for confirmation, temperament, and breed that suites my lifestyle and expectations. I come from a line of farmers, ranchers, and hunters. I was always told that you don’t buy a bird dog to herd stock.

Being a self-confirmed, genuine, home-girl (sheesh, when my mom died I had to find a home for her 23 bowling balls and her trophies for skeet/trap shooting, fishing, bowling, and single ski water skiing), I’ve had a weighty legacy to live up to. I hate to bowl (too many hours spent as a child at the bowling alleys), can’t ski worth a damn (never made it to a single ski), can shoot (but husband hates guns), and only fished with Pop (my maternal granddad). This left me a rogue in my own family.

What to do? Even though my family hunted, they also always enjoyed animals and if I truly examine my roots, I will see that Pop actually planted my love of reptiles and all kinds of creatures considered “oogey” by the masses. Pop was a construction superintendent in a desert climate and delighted in bringing home desert creatures to his favorite granddaughter. Miss Raven always wanted to “keep” these pets. Horny toads, snakes, lizards, scorpions, and tarantulas would have had to endure the endless attentions of a small child, although Pop always taught me that these creatures had their own homes. I could have their company for a day, but then he would return them to the desert.

Back in the present we now consider Cowboy the Red Tail Boa Constrictor. My life was to a point where I was negotiating with my mate to get a new snake. I discovered that “Green/Grass” snakes were no longer an option. The revelation became known that nobody had actually succeeded with helping a Grass Snake survive in captivity. Grass Snakes are native to the US and were a popular seller in pet stores in the late ‘70s. Sadly most of them died. They would not eat and thus starved. I never found anyone besides myself who actually had a Grass Snake survive for as long as a couple of years.

Since I couldn’t have a Grass Snake what kind of snake would fit my lifestyle? After much research I decided that a Rosy Boa might work well. Being a smaller Boa, the Rosy seemed like a logical upgrade to the Grass Snake.

I like to be prepared when I’m bringing new life into the “nest”. Knowing that I am a “snake newbie” I consulted, Jackie, my reptile mentor. I cannot sing the praises of Jackie enough! She is a thorough, conscientious, totally accessible person who loves reptiles. She has been a long-standing herp rescue heroine. I would like to express appreciation to Jackie and the Pacific Northwest Herpetological Society for all of the outreach and information they are and have been willing to share. Thank you, Jackie and PNHS!

Jackie knew of a couple of Rosy Boas that could do with a home where there were only a few reptiles. During negotiations her female Red Tail gave birth to a litter of kittens (snakelets?). She had an absolute favorite, a colourful individual with a perfect horseshoe marking in one of his bands. She could not keep her favorite because she needed the space for rescues.

Jackie has always graced me with trust, as have others. She felt that she would like me to give a home to her special snake. At first, my hubby was not willing to consider a snake that might get to be over the three-foot length of a Rosy Boa. He wondered if the boa might grow large enough to consume a cat the size of a small Pixie-Bob (cat). He reminded me of the expensive nature of the purebred registered cats in our clowder (group of cats). How could I even take the risk?

With a little help from Jackie and her reassurances to my all-patient partner that these snakes only eat already dead and previously frozen mice and rats, his reluctance was overcome. I would get to have three snakes. Next came the wait until it cooled off enough to ship all the boas together. During this time I would get my herpetariums purchased and set up. These habitats were/are several 20-gallon (long) aquariums, reptile lids, heaters, lamps, substrate, water dishes, hide logs, thermometers, and humidity gauge. (Cowboy has since outgrown his 20-gallon). Actually, he’s outgrown his 40 gallon especially designed herpetariaum.

Cowboy arrived a mere pencil sized snake. How cute is that? Everyone wanted to play with him before he grew. Fine, pencil snake…but can’t you love the full grown individual? Isn’t this the problem with many naïve owners? The same issue happens with domestics. “How Cute!” these idiots exclaim until they reach adolescent behavior!
Irresponsible behavior is even more rampant among the “exotic” community.

One of the best markers of my life as an exotic owner was when my mate, in the dark, yelled many a swear word. He had tried to take Cowboy out of his enclosure and Cowboy bit the crap out of him, in the tune of drawing blood. It seems that reptiles are
“Creatures Of Habit”. Maybe snakes bond with their handlers or maybe they don’t’. Cowboy has never struck me. He moves on my body as elegantly as Grass once did, though he’s a bit bigger. I feel boa love.

Raven Simons has worked on animal welfare issues for over 20 years, including a 2 year appointment by the County Commissioner to her local Humane Education Advisory Board. She owns exotic pets and can be reached at ladyraven_69@yahoo.com