My Pet Copperhead
Posted: Thursday, February 25, 2010
by Jack H. Schick
I used to like to say I was an amateur herpetologist. I always collected snakes and lizards, and such. From the time I was a kid I often had pet snakes. I'd catch water snakes in the creek next to the house, and garter snakes in the garden. I adopted a couple boa constrictors from a fraternity brother; and once, against the better judgment of my wife, I kept a pet copperhead in our apartment in Pittsburgh for awhile.
Though I've sort of grown out of it, my history of, and prowess at snake hunting is well established. I used a home made catching stick of my grandfather's. Several summers I worked as the Nature Director in a Boy Scout camp. Besides teaching merit badges and guiding educational hikes, part of my job was to maintain an interesting and informative Nature Lodge. Fish, toads and, of course, snakes were always part of our live display. I felt it was important for the Scouts to be able to identify the dangerous ones. Copperheads, the only poisonous snakes in that area, were always on my list of live specimens, so I'd go out and catch one. At the end of the season I released them back into the wild.
My last year at the camp my wife was also on staff, as the Camp Nurse. I'm happy to say she tended no copperhead bites that summer (we always hauled them off to the hospital right away, anyway). I hiked down into the Tohickon Creek canyon to catch snakes. I considered it part of my job. Besides, like I said, I always got that thrill: the shakes and the sweats, the sky high blood pressure and the wobbly knees when I hiked back up the hill with my quarry. Actually it was invigorating. Copperheads never seemed appreciated being captured. There almost always was a big fight. I caught a couple of big ones that year among the rocks at the base of the cliffs.
Since it was the last season I'd be working there I trained my assistant to take over. He actually liked snakes. He loved handling them, even the copperheads. I saw him take a vicious bite from a big milk snake he'd named Bob once, because he thought they'd become "friends." He had a couple of idiosycracies. Like, he loved to start fires--at inappropriate places a lot of times. I don't know if there was some connection between the two behaviors.
The following summer my wife and I stopped by the camp to say "Hi," to some old friends. My ex-assistant was now running the Nature department (He was 'better' now. There had been no mysterious fires all season). Of course, he had a large collection of snakes for the Scouts to ogle at. It was toward the end of the camping season so he offered me a present from his collection-a beautiful (they are very beautiful), medium sized copperhead.
How could I resist? I felt that thrill rising in me again. My hands trembled. Of course I wanted it. My wife wasn't too happy about it, though. She asked a lot of questions, like "Why?", "Where will you keep it?" and "Are you nuts?" I sort of had answers to the first two, maybe not real good ones. Since we lived in an apartment in the city, she was pretty sure she knew the answer to the last one. I put my foot down, though. This was a special gift from an old friend. Of course I'd take care of it appropriately. I was an amateur herpetologist, remember?
So, we went back to Pittsburgh with a poisonous snake in a plastic jug in the trunk (there were plenty of air holes and a little water in the bottom for you animal rights nuts). I built a nice cage for it and we kept it on display in the living room of our apartment on Bigelow Boulevard, just off campus. It was a great conversation starter when we had guests over. I occasionally got a mouse at the pet store to feed it. Sometimes I'd sit watching it for long periods. It didn't do much, but it was fascinating, beautiful and menacing. Everything was fine for months.
We both were full time students. Every morning when I got up for classes, the first thing I did was go check on the copperhead. One morning, it was gone. After months of boring captivity it had finally decided it was time to escape. "The snake's gone!" I hollered into the bedroom. I could almost hear her cringing on the bed. "What are you going to do?" she asked in a feeble, quivery voice. "Find it!" What did she think I was going to do, ignore it like a lost hamster?
I pulled on my hiking boots and grabbed my snake stick. I looked kind of ridiculous parading around the apartment in my underpants and boots looking under furniture. I finally found it, coiled up on a towel in the bottom of one of the closets. I put it back in the cage. I couldn't determine how it had gotten out so I used duct tape to seal any questionable cracks. We both went off to class. I had one firm instruction. "Get rid of the snake before I get home!" I was still happily married and still wanted to stay that way.
I came home at lunch, and, naturally, the snake was gone again. This time I found it tangled up in the springs under the couch. It was a real fight. I got that thrill again and had to rest a few minutes while I decided what to do. For some odd reason I still didn't really want to get rid of it. I thought about building a better cage, but I knew that wouldn't go over big with the wife. I thought about taking it out behind the apartment building and letting it go in the patch of woods near the trash cans, but that didn't seem like a good idea after I carried it out there. I'd feel guilty if someone saw it and killed it. Finally I decided to call the zoo. They said they would be glad to take it. I just had to get it there.
The zoo was a long way off. I had to make at least one bus transfer. The only thing I had to carry it in was a big green, wooden, Army storage box about two feet square. I put the copperhead in and dragged it out to the bus stop in front of the apartment building.
Luckily the bus wasn't crowded, but there was a cranky old lady who must have been crazy. She kept hollering at me about having the big box with me. I was a little agitated from the day I'd had so far and thought about showing her exactly what I had in my big box. That seemed like a bad idea too, after I thought about it a while. I just sat there and kept my mouth shut. I felt a little ridiculous standing at the next stop with my transfer ticket in my hand. People kept giving me and my 'luggage' funny looks.
They were expecting me at the zoo. I got in free and went straight to the reptile house. The guy opened the box and casually picked the snake out with a hooked stick. He held it up admiring it. He agreed it was a pretty one. It had completely camed down by then and was inquisitive. It had been furious and excited after I wrestled it out of the couch springs. He put it in a display case with a few other copperheads. I felt bad about losing it. I watched it for a few minutes before I headed back, half way across the city, with my big green box.
I still don't kill snakes. They won't bother me if I don't bother them. They'll just try to get away. I still don't like handling them, though, and I've long since given up trying to catch them. As you might expect, I haven't had any snakes as pets since then, either. I know a lot about them and I admire them. I don't know what it is with the dreams, though. I still sometimes wake up terrified after dreaming there are copperheads all over the place, so thick I cant take a step, hiding in the closets, crawling out from under the furniture.
This Article has been viewed 2,752 times. (Not updated in real-time.)
More commentsCreepy article you have here Jack! I enjoyed reading it!Terrenceenjoyed, but only a 3's worth
I find it interesting that you did not like to handle the snakes, and that you had an obvious fear reaction to them, but were still fascinated by them and drawn to them. Subconsciously a face your fears reaction perhaps?Yeah, as I wrote it I saw the psycological stuff too.
I am not big on snakes, myself, but I could not stop reading this article! It was very interesting; great picture, too.Thanks for reading
If is funny how after a rainstorm there are worms all over the sidewalk. The only real snakes I have seen are at the zoo.Thanks for reading
If is funny how after a rainstorm there are worms all over the sidewalk. The only real snakes I have seen are at the zoo.Thanks for reading- and rating it twice.And what's up with the worms?
Great article, Jack. Snakes bring up to me the old saw "let the sleeping bear lie." so I always give snakes a wide birth.Thanks again, Richard.
Those snakes represent some very formidable problems for you- problems you're bound and determined to conquer, no matter how difficult it is for you. When you have the dreams about almost being inundated by the snakes, it's at a time when you feel the temptation of these things is almost overwhelming. The discription of the snake,"beautiful and menacing," indicates the feelings you have toward these problems- you like doing these things, they attract you, but you know they are dangerous and deadly. Oft times we will act out our fears and problems in actual life, and use the symbols of them in our dreams. Good article- very interesting. Always- EllaThanks again Ella- yes- I realize the psychology involved here.
I'm still giggling - great article - love the humour. My kids love catching snakes - thank goodness we having nothing but 'garter snakes' - 'garden snakes' whatever you call them. We also have frogs, salamanders, alligator lizards - so much fun stuff for the kids to find. What great memories.Thanks for reading, Tammy. I lost 32 baby water snakes in the house. Some turned up in the washer- didn't go big with my Mon. She was a screamerHilarious! I can only imagine your mom's reaction. I, on the other hand, was the one who encouraged my kids to become interested in 'critters'. I wasn't going to have a 'girlie girl' scared of scaly creatures. So, I made sure to pick up the snakes in the beginning when they were just toddlers and show them how fascinating they were. One image that comes to mind was when my then 3 year old daughter had caught her first garter snake and came running to the house with it, through the doors and started up the stairs. I was in the kitchen and heard the blood curdling scream that makes a parent's blood turn to ice (I did not know at this point she was on the stairs, or that she had a snake). I came bolting out of the kitchen and started down the stairs - only to see a snake coiled up on the stair - I narrowly missed ending it's life by stepping on it - instead - sidestepped in mid-air and went careening down the stairs....to my babygirl at the bottom of the stairs sobbing her little heart out and screaming bloody murder at the snake. Turns out the garter snake had bit her - so she threw it as hard as she could (reaction of course) and it went flying up the staircase to where I almost stepped on it. As I consoled my weepy, terrified little girl, and my backside from landing hard on the stairs - I thought for sure that my little girl would never touch a 'critter' again.Thankfully - we worked through it - and now, years later, she's the one who brings all the critters to me for inspection. She's the one, who on field trips to the Bug Zoo - is the first to put up her hand to hold creatures - and even get to pose with the millipedes (or was it centipedes?) - big huge ones from some country - as a mustache or unibrow - way before the other kids in her class would do it!However, I like you mom, would probably not be very impressed with finding the snakes in my washer....poor critters! I hope you were able to get them out before they got laundered - and got them back to the outdoors :-)
You must have a very special wife to put up with those shenanigans!I guess so. thanks for reading
Your wife is a very patient person Jack! I am not sure I could allow a snake in my house! I am glad the copperhead found a good home at the zoo! Loved the story! very thrilling! Thanks for sharing!is it really a good home? I wondered about that. Thanks for commenting
More comments
We want your comments! If you can read this, you don't have javascript enabled, so you can't use this comment system. Please enable javascript.