Susan Writes

Cosmo was a perfect 5^th grade classroom pet. After graduating from college, Daughter bought herself a gift, a corn snake, and shared him with her students.

Because corn snakes are generally docile and don’t get very large, they are good choices for pets.  Cosmo lived in a large glass tank with a fastened mesh lid.  He required clean water, wooden bedding, and an occasional frozen, then thawed, pinkie mouse.

             Cosmo was small when Daughter got him.  He moved slowly stretching his body along your forearm and winding his way into your hand.  He stuck out his tongue – a slow flicker to smell.

            Cosmo often spent weekends at students’ homes, with their parents’ permission, but during a long Christmas school break I offered to keep him while Daughter went out of town.  All went well.  I brought him from his upstairs bedroom when friends visited.  Cosmo behaved perfectly, even encouraging one friend who feared snakes to touch him.

            I checked Cosmo daily, and as I said, all went well – until the day Cosmo wasn’t in his tank. I searched the room. Bookshelves.  Door and window facings. Closet shelves.  Inside drawers.  Bathroom cabinets.  I stripped the sheets from the bed that was close to his tank.  Cosmo had disappeared, or rather escaped because I must have not fastened the lid on his tank.

            Husband and I searched throughout our home; we cautiously opened all drawers and cabinets.

Weeks passed.  When I took a shoebox off the top closet shelf, I prepared myself to see a two-foot long black and gold friendly snake.  Every night I folded back all the bedcovers before going to bed.  The worst experience would be for Cosmo to crawl up my leg while I slept. 

Only Husband, Daughter, and I knew a snake was on the loose. After all, who would visit if they knew? 

Winter turned to spring.  Surely, Cosmo had found his way outside.  We stopped searching for him, but were always aware. I hoped he wouldn’t come out of hiding while we had company. 

Then early one Sunday morning, Cosmo appeared – wrapped around a commode lid. I slowly reached toward him.  He hissed and struck.  He held his head high, challenging me to try again.

I woke Husband and whispered, “I found Cosmo.  He’s around the upstairs toilet seat.”  Husband opened one eye and said, “Okay.”

I called Daughter who lived a mile away.  She said, “Good. I’ll come get him after church.” (Later, she apologized for not coming immediately.)

My years of seeing how snakes were caught at Camp Country Lad paid off.  Putting both hands inside a pillowcase, I pried Cosmo off the toilet and placed him inside this big cloth bag.  He hissed.  I held firm; then tied a string around the pillowcase opening.

Daughter picked him Cosmo and gave him to a friend who’d said that someday he’d like to own a corn snake. 

The prevailing theory is that Cosmo lived in our attic eating the many small critters that hide away in such places.  And perhaps, he drank toilet water regularly. 

Filed under: Animals | Tagged: Cosmo, snake |