Stories from the Stringam Family Ranches of Southern Alberta

From the 50s and 60s to today . . .



Saturday, October 5, 2019

A Snaky Tail

Look at this!
I caught a snake. Garter variety.
The banks of the river abounded with such things, as well as frogs, tadpoles, minnows and other slithery, slimy denizens of the milky water.
It wasn't unheard-of for my mother to be the calm recipient of a bullfrog, salamander, and cup full of minnows . . . all on the same day.
Okay, so, squeamish, I wasn't.
And my mother was a saint.
But snakes, we usually had a harder time catching. Actually laying hands on one was a treat. An achievement.
I know. We probably should have explored other hobbies . . .
I was understandably excited about my snake. I wanted to share.
I decided to take it to school.
I can't remember just how I managed this. Perhaps my Mom helped me by putting it in a shoebox. But it, and I somehow managed the long bus ride.
Then I was the center of attention as everyone on the playground crowded in for a peek. In fact, my snake was so popular that my teacher arranged for me to take it to every classroom to show the kids.
For the first time in my young life, I was the center of attention. I was popular. I was famous.
Yes, well, it rather went to my head . . .
To make my snake a bit more visible, the principal offered me his own glass fishbowl. Now it could be seen at all times.
I thought it was terrific. I don't suppose the snake was very impressed.
I walked into each of the six classrooms, filled with importance. While there,  I would talk about my snake . . . ummm . . . knowledgeably.
"This is a garter snake. I caught it by the river. It's kind of cold and . . . smooth. It can swim. It eats frogs and other stuff."
Hey, I was six. That was as knowledgeable as it gets.
Then I would reach in, grab my snake by the end of its tail and lift it out for everyone to see. The snake would, obligingly, stretch up and flick its tongue.
Ooohs.
This went on for the lower five grades.
Then, the last class. My oldest brother Jerry's. The grade sixes. The big guys.
I was more than a bit intimidated.
I carried my sideshow exhibit into the class and went into my spiel. Then I lifted my snake. And stared in horror as the last two inches of its tail . . . broke off.
The poor thing dropped to the floor and began a frantic slither towards somewhere else.
Several girls screamed.
I quickly pounced on it and scooped it up, dropping it back into the goldfish bowl.
Order was restored.
Then I realized that I was still holding the piece of the snake's tail. Flushing, I dropped it in with the snake, then quickly seized the bowl and scurried out of the room.
My 15 minutes of fame were over.
For the rest of the day, my snake sat on the shelf at the back of my grade one classroom.
After school, my Mom was waiting for me at the bus stop. She loaded my brothers, George and Jerry, my snake and I into the car.
On the way out of town, she pulled over into the campground beside the river.
"Okay, Diane," she said, "let the snake go."
I stared at her, horrified. Let him go? But he was mine! We'd been through so much together!
She nodded.
Heaving a sigh, I opened the car door and carried my prize to the riverbank.
I looked back at her.
She nodded again.
Now, I should point out here, that I could have simply taken my slithery friend out and laid him in the grass beside the river. Or even set the bowl down and let him crawl out there.
But no. Instead, I made my way down the very edge of the river and tipped up the fishbowl to drop my companion and friend into the milky water.
And unwittingly added an exciting postscript to the story.
Because I also dropped the fishbowl.
My principal's fishbowl.
I did try to make a grab for it, but it quickly slid out of my reach and disappeared. I stared at the place where it had last been seen.
I was in so much trouble.
I remember looking at my mom, horror written across my whole face. She just rolled her eyes and shook her head.
She must have sorted things out with my principal, the first of many such exchanges, because I never heard anything more.
But I often think of my little garter snake friend and wonder just what happened to him. Dropped into a foreign world, miles from his home. Part of his tail snapped off.
Did he survive? Even prosper?
I like to think so.
But more thought-provoking is the fact that I had absolutely no fear when catching and handling my snake.
Now if he had been a chicken?
Totally another story.

16 comments:

  1. For starters your mom sounds like a gem letting you bring a snake to school. You obviously inherited her spunk. This was so much fun to read!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Mom had eight (count 'em) eight brothers. I think that contributed vastly to her whole 'I-don't-get-squeamish' persona. She was a very fun mom! :)

      Delete
  2. I knew lizards could lose all or part of their tale and survive, even grow a new one, but I had no idea a snake could lose part of theirs. Learned something new today and I wasn't even in your school.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Basically, you just got the sum total of all my knowledge. And you didn't even have to sit through my six-year-old lecture!

      Delete
  3. This is lovely, sweet and funny. I am phobic re snakes, my granddaughter re spiders. We are currently coping with an invasion of lizards and frogs through the torn screen, which we have repeatedly repaired with cardboard and duct tape. (None of us are handy.) I have calls in to three handy services, rare and overbooked. My cats are enjoying the mutilation games, but I do NOT enjoy encountering a half-frog when I go for my coffee.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Gahhh! I don't blame you!
      That's almost up there with Daddy's joke: What's worse than finding a worm in your apple? Finding half a worm. Ewwww!!!

      Delete
  4. I didn't know that snakes could shed part of their tale either.
    Yay for your mother, and in particular, yay for her insisting on that poor snake going home.
    I am a tad snake phobic and in my defence many of our more common snakes are venomous. We had a snake who lived under the front steps of one of our homes - and for about nine months of the year I only used the back door.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Good gravy! Our snakes had the good sense to keep to their own turf. (Or non-turf, if you get my drift.) It was us who invaded them. The only poisonous snakes we had around were rattlers. And they were pretty noisy in their aversion to human incursion. ;)

      Delete
  5. Amazing how nonchalant you were - I get the shivers just thinking about snakes! I love the line about your mom sorting things out with the principal - "the first of many such exchanges" - lol

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Yeah. They got to have a lot of animated meetings. Sigh.

      Delete
  6. My brother and I used to catch small snakes on the outskirts of town, we'd take them to school in our pockets and let them loose in the classroom, kids and teachers would scream or squeal and climb onto chairs and tables, it was great fun for a while, no lessons until order was restored. Then one day someone tattled and we were told not to bring snakes to school anymore.

    ReplyDelete
  7. I am fine with bugs, but snakes and rodents scare me. We didn't have any get into the house, thankfully. Never got to bring anything cool like that.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. And I get the shivers from bugs. That's why I stay in Canada. Our bugs a pretty benign.

      Delete
  8. Our family has some great snake stories, too. Your poor garter snake, i also hope it survived and did well after that.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Me, too! I'm hoping that one bend of the river is much like another.

      Delete

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