Eulogy from a lousy snake owner.

[Duncan]

22 years. Who would have guessed when I purchased you at 18 years old, I'd be regretting your passing as I approach 40. I was a lousy owner for the most part, and I'm sorry.

Your tank was alway bare. White paper for substrate, 1 rock, some water dishes and a cave to hide in. At least it was pretty roomy and I kept it more or less clean.

I barely regulated the heat. You temperature fluctuated wildy over the years as I moved you from the homes of various girl friends, buddies, (since my parents wouldn't let me keep you) and my own long list of appartments, condos all the way up to my current address. You had years where the house you lived had an ambient temprature of 75 degrees to basements where it spent most of the time in the mid to low 60s with nothing but your heat mat under your cave. Yet you never got sick.

Humidity was never even considered in passing. Occasionally if you had a bad shed I'd wet you down and help you get the pieces off.

Your feeding schedule was probably just short of abusive. 2 mice every other week was the plan, but it rarely worked that way. Sometimes it was lack of a measly 5 bucks for mice, sometimes it was forgetfulness, ashamedly sometimes laziness. All of this and yet you somehow stayed healthy and stuck it out for all of my adult life.

Three days ago, feeling bad that I let three weeks go by without feeding you I picked up your mice and fed you as usual. The next day I noticed you were sort of sitting half in half out of your cave, which was sort
of odd, but you were responsive and seemed fine. Yesterday, three days after feeding you, I came home that night to an awful smell and what appeard at first glance a murder scene in your tank that turned out to be a mostly digested, regurgitated mouse. You'd never done that before. When I picked you up to clean out your tank, I knew that things were bad. You moved odd and lethargically, and kept bobbing your head in an strange way. I finished cleaning and put you back next to the spot over your mat and under the heat lamp. But I could tell it was already near the end. 2 Hours later you were gone.

My daughter and I buried you this morning in the front yard out in the cold, New England, October rain before dropping her off for shcool and heading to work. You've been around so much longer than she has. Longer than I've known my wife. Longer than I've known most of my current friends. I bought you as I was starting college and now say good bye to you with my six year old and myself at the threshhold of age 40.

I was bad owner. But I'll miss you. You were my last and final attempt at reptile rearing. I'm obviously not cut out for it. Sorry you were stuck with me for 22 years while I figured that out.

Snake (Snakey) - Ball Python
1989 - October 26th, 2011