Michael Neal Morris

On the hoped for extinction of snakes

by Michael Neal Morris

Linus had the right idea. The very wise little boy from the Peanuts gang warned Charlie Brown against queen snakes. “You get bitten by a queen snake, Charlie Brown, and you’ve had it!”

Everyone knows that the only good snake is either a boot or a belt. Okay, I have heard from some people who know more than I that there are some snakes that are good to eat. I wouldn’t know, but I’ll trust their judgment. I’m pretty convinced that the usefulness of the snake, any kind you wish to mention, is limited to these things.

Look at the history of the snake. Any good ones? Nope. In the book of Genesis, we don’t even get through the third chapter before a snake plays a major role in the direction mankind would take. Later, snakes would be prominent in one of the plagues upon Egypt. After a while, Moses, who would play emcee to the Plague-a-polooza, would hold up an image of a snake and those that looked at it would be healed. But since snakes were already associated with sin, psychologists and theologians alike would certainly argue that this act was a matter of looking at their sins square in the face in order to begin their healing. I have no need for such a symbol because I have a mother-in-law and a teenage daughter to remind me daily of my imperfections.

Snakes do not fare better in the New Testament either. Once the apostle Paul was bitten on the hand by a snake of a particularly venomous variety. When he did not die, the pagans around him assumed that it was because he held some great power. Of course he did. Jesus had told his own disciples that snakes would have no power over them. Now why would he say that if there wasn’t something to fear in the first place?

Some rather misguided folks have tried to convince me of some supposed “scientific facts” about these allegedly misunderstood creatures. I’m told, for example, that snakes are a vital part of the ecosystem because they eat things like mice and rats. I’m no friend of rodents, but I’ve read that snakes are not the only predators of these creatures. So I’m thinking that if we didn’t have snakes then there would be more food for hawks and eagles, who are much cooler to look at than squirming turd.

Some of these presumed “science” people also make some other claims about snakes that solid reasoning easily proves are unfounded. For example, a friend tried to convince me that a snake is more afraid of me than I am of it. Right. If that is true, then why don’t they all die of heart attacks the moment they see me. I know I feel a serious tightness in the chest when I am aware of their prescence. How do they live in zoos, being watched by often hundreds of people a day? Not bloody likely. They sit in those transparent cells and talk to each other, plotting their escape and their first victim is going to be little boy who is not smart enough to know he isn’t supposed to tap the glass and make faces.

Then there are the people who like to tell me that literally thousands of snakes live all around me and I never even see them. Snakes supposed live their minor little lives and go about their business all out of my sight and do no harm to me. I have no idea why these misguided folks think this is going to make me feel better. Have none of these people ever stopped to think what that business might be? For all we know, snakes are part of a global scheme, probably in collusion with such creatures as bats and june bugs, to take over the world. Remember they can be found under rocks.

There are some other strange people who think it is cool to keep snakes as pets. What is wrong with these people? They claim that the little vermin are “harmless.” Uh huh. Then they tell me what fun it is to feed these nightmarish things. They drop a mouse of some other “dispensible” thing in the cage and then watch the snake chase and then eat it. Real entertainment. Does it not occur to these people that if that blasted thing gets out, it will likely devour an entire city? Don’t these people watch movies? (Of course they do. These “pet owners” are the same people who buy horror films on DVD so they can watch exploding body parts over and over without rewinding.

My childhood teemed with dogs and cats. A copperhead once bit my dog, Miss Priss, and she disappeared for a few days. My father, playing the hero, of course executed the evildoer. When Miss Priss returned, she was as good as new. Now, I’ve heard that dogs have something about them that helps them get over snake bites, but I don’t care about that. Until that dog died, I was in awe everything she came in the room.

My grandmother came over to visit us and while we sat in my parents’ living room, my cat Puffy climbing into my lap and I began to pet him. My grandmother shuddered.

“What’s wrong, Grandma?” I asked her. “You cold?”

She narrowed her eyes, focused on the cat, and then gave me a wan smile. “I don’t like cats. They make me nervous.”

I lifted my indignant feline and took him to another room. When I returned I asked my grandmother what made her feel that way about cats.

“I think it’s the tails,” she said. Cats always look like they have a live snake following behind them.”

I’ve been petless for over twenty years now.