Fear of snakes.
For the life of me, I've been plain terrified with snakes for as far long as I can remember. It's not like I have any dangerous encounter or any sort; but I can relate to the chill down my spine when I was a wee pip squeek in primary school walking through the century-old building with its musky damp old smell and stuck dead looking at a piece of old snakeskin.
Of course, I stood there and re-traced my steps and that was one bit of sub-plot in my nightmare program for ages to come.
Aside from getting the heebie-gajeebies everytime I find myself staring through the looking glass in the zoo. Yeah my blood curdles every single time I look at them, and this is coming from someone who has been fortunate enough not to meet or seen a single snake mano a' mano.
So it comes to this. This picture.
Floppie. Year and a half old Royal Phyton/ Ball Phyton. Friendly and cute baby daughter.
So what happened to my phobia?
Initially Pauline deployed Floppie as my alarm clock. Yes, she'd just set Floppie on my back and I'd be poofed and up from the bed. That was how it used to be.
The few times that I braved myself to touch the chill of her or secretly tracing the intricate scales; that stop pretty soon when she'd wriggle her way closer to my hand. And Floppie got handed back to Pauline.
So one fine day early February, Pauline has to leave for Chinese New Year's and to both our surprise, I offered to babysit (snake-sit?) for the duration.
Putting on a brave front I made mental notes on how to take care of this animal that gave me prickly hair sensation and thought about the strategy while I drove back to my place. I remembered that I asked my friend Raj if he'd be free and handy; if things go out of hands under my watch.
Plan B would be shipping Floppie off to Raj's place, even though I found out later that he offered help although he has no experience handling snakes too.
Got home and it was of no relief too, as my brother Harry was like asking what would happen to us if the snake would escape from the cage, and the sort of questions.
It wasn't like I was hoping that my dear brother would strut over and handle the snake, etc but i figured as much when I realised he balled himself up in a safe distance and peered behind me while I set Floppie down the dining table.
I guess as much I didn't help in the situation by quoting whatever I read off Wiki about snake care and in particular; snake being an adversed escape artist.
As precaution, I added weigh on the cage's window.
And I left Floppie in her cage in the other room. Room for The Parent when they do come down.
The living room is pretty much out of the question as Harry's in the living room most of the time on the PS2; and of course I'm not gonna have her in my room.
So I left the fan on and made doubly sure the windows were tight and Floppie spent 2 nights alone in that room.
As much as I ridiculed myself, but I slow-talked to Floppie as I carefully slid open her window and sprayed water on the cage's bedding, taking great care not to spray on her.(She doesn't actually fancy getting wet, as I'd been told)
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| the first time letting her roam about my room |
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| Ever the escape artist! |
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| just the 1 time brought her out to the makan place... |
So the magic happened when I decided to let her out. (exercise, mayhap?)
Tried to soothe and lightly lift her but I chickened out.
Scared shitless to pick her up, so I left the cover open and thought I'd better let her come out on her own terms.
It took awhile, but when I tried to hold her, she was responsive and lo! I managed to pick her up. But what's next?
Set her down on the bed, and I kept a safe distance on the bed and continued on my PS3. (Metal Gear Solid 4 if memory serves me right)
The best thing about her is that she was practically slithering all over the room. Every hook and nook, high or hidden Floppie crawled and sneaked.
Its a whole new thing to me, inadequate so as in the past I'd just need to call a name out (or any name when it comes to our late dogs, the goons) and they'd be wagging their tails and made a noise or response.
But being caught in a game of hide and seek with a snake?
I sweated over the thought of losing a snake in the house and the dread of telling the girlfriend too.
I've found Floppie hiding in a closed off drawer, on top of cabinets, by the window sill, in my laundry basket, wedged in between my wardrobes' ledge and every other way imaginable.
Of course, all that and getting no clue and response from the 'hidden'? Pretty hard game, and I half-wished that phytons have a rattlesnake's rattle.
No wonder my game records for the said game was bad; I have to pause every now and then to check up on where she is hiding.
At times, the serpent would be such a sore loser to not want to be lifted up from her curl that I have to leave her there for later.
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| Ok, ain't exactly what I meant... |
Well, the rest is history. Not even by March I've already gotten comfortable with her.
Of course, I still do not watch her when she's feeding, though I've even gotten through the motion of actually feeding her a mice, without looking at that action, AND me holding the mice. (Yes, I go squemish at rodents, but that's another blog post)
No doubt, I've learnt more about snakes off the net, and by the visits to the pet store etc ever since, my fear of snakes has diminished. To some extent, I do agree that snakes are often misunderstood and they're harmless/peaceful creatures.
But I still have jitters in handling other snakes. The tingling prickling sensation isn't all that dominant in me when I look at snakes now; but I need more time to actually touch another serpent. Some day.
I guess I have both ophiophobia and herpetophobia. Oh well.