A redhead, her snake, and his food

Last night, I went to get snake food. I actually like buying snake food. It's an adventure, and I never know what I'm going to get. The reptile store has an earthy, sometimes pungent aroma. They have snakes, lizards, tortoises and turtles, alligators, spiders, scorpions and frogs. One week, I'll see geckos stuck to the glass of their 4 ft high cage. The next week the same cage will hold an emerald tree boa. The only constant is the cage that holds impossibly large pythons for less than $200. Sadly, people buy snakes, then get rid of them when they grow too heavy to carry around. I would love to give a home to some of those beauties, and it's not practical. The cost of their food would be too great. Which brings me back to last night.

It was windy last night. I could see the trees whipping around as the cold front the weather guy had warned us about moved in. And Sinbad needed food. I'd been putting it off for too long. I stepped out the side door, expecting a bitter wind.
Instead, a strong warm wind swirled around me. It lifted my hair like a mini tornado and caressed my face as if to say, "hi". I suddenly felt playful and wonderful. The arthritic aches and pains I ignore daily just... disappeared. I felt like a teenager again. I stalked lightly through the backyard as if I were walking on air. Who knows? Perhaps I was, because that odd warm wind swirled around me all the way to the truck. Have I mentioned that I love being shaman? ;)

I drove to the Exotic Amphibian and Reptile Center (aka the snake store), still in that happy-playful mood. When I climbed out of the truck, the cold-front wind was, well -cold. Nastily cold. My lovely warm wind had abandoned me. The snake store stank to high heaven, and they were out of large mice. They had nothing but pinky mice. I didn't have enough cash on hand to buy the half-dozen baby mice Sinbad would need. The girl behind the counter suggested a small rat. I know Sinbad is big enough to eat a small rat, but I had avoided buying one previously. Mice are food, but rats are pets. They're intelligent, agile and capable of loving. I would feel really bad feeding a rat to my snake.
Of course, in the wild Sinbad would be eating rats, mice, baby bunnies and even rattlesnakes. It is a food cycle, don't ya know. So I bought a $2 rat. Looking at him, I realized how big his teeth could be, how strong his jaws, how potent his interest in surviving. (sigh) I asked the girl if I should "thump" the rat. She thought it would be a good idea, if I could stomach it. I decided I'd better find a way to cope with it. It's way too cold out to be taking Sinbad to the vet for a rat bite.

So I carried the rat out to the truck, wrapped in my coat to keep him warm. Don't ask me why I take such care of what is, clearly, no more than food. I just do. It's what seems right.
I turned up the heater, and headed for home. As I got off the highway, the wind began circling the truck. It had not abandoned me, it just didn't want to leave the neighborhood :) The wind, not as warm as before, but still nice; stayed with me all the way to the door. It even politely held the storm door open for me, and closed it behind.
I don't know why the wind chose to dance with me last night. I don't care. I'm grateful for it's gift.

Back to the tale of the food. I gave the box of rat to my hubby and explained about there being no mice. He was pleased. He'd been thinking of switching Sinbad to rats for some time. Now was as good a time as any. I told him about the thumping suggestion, and said I wasn't sure if I had the heart for it. By this time, hubby-man was playing with the rat. He was letting it crawl over his hand, and up his arm. He abruptly got up and took the rat to the bathroom with him. I knew what was coming, and a small part of my brain recoiled in horror. Good idea or not, it was deliberately harming a living creature. (now might be a good time to stop reading)

I heard a "thunk" from the bathroom, and felt all tingly and unpleasant. Our son asked, "Did you just thump the rat's head against the sink?" Hubby said, "Yes." That was apparently enough. Hubby headed toward the bedroom, carrying the now limp rat by it's tail. We followed. I really wanted to see Sinbad eat this monster sized piece of food. The rat began to twitch, kicking his hind legs. His eyes were still glazed looking, so we knew it was just reaction from the rat's now damaged brain. Every twitch sent little shocks of horror through me. The rat was dumped into Sinbad's cage, and we sat back to watch.

The poor rat had landed on his feet, and because of the kicking hind legs, began hopping around the cage. Had I been less shocked, it would have seemed funny. Then the rat hopped right into Sinbad's water dish. Hubby rescued it before it drowned. Good man. I don't think I could have handled seeing the poor thing drown. He laid the now soggy rat on it's side, and we watched the snake scent his way around the cage.

We left the room before Sinbad found his dinner. It wasn't interesting anymore, just kind of sad. Next time, I'm buying a mouse.