Send Small Lizards

A couple weeks ago, one of our Speech teachers caught for me two baby glossy snakes. I took pictures pictures of them to show off because they are so dang cute. They look like bleached-out gopher snakes, with very smooth, almost "glossy" skin.

Apparently, glossy snakes are notorious for being persnickety eaters. They won't eat crickets and turn up their little snake noses at pinkie mice. They will only eat juvenile lizards. Nothing else.

I guess the Speech teacher figured that THESE little specimens would be exceptions. HA! You can practically sense the derision with which they meet my meager offerings, laughing at my feeble attempts to nourish their little bodies.

Well, when snakes are hungry they start "cruising." They meander about looking and sniffing (with their tongues) for something to eat. Since these guys are so tiny, I never in a million years figured they could get out of the cage I set up for them. Well, HA! Last night my son woke me up yelling about one of the baby glossies sliding across the kitchen floor.

The escapee was quickly corralled but our relief turned to despair when we used our counting skills and discovered that the OTHER glossy snake was missing too!

"He must have followed the other one out," D said very seriously.

I doubt that baby snakes think that rationally, but it's as good an explanation as any, since both of them managed to bust free and go looking for food.

So now - instead of hiking way away from civilization to release the snakes this weekend, I will hike way and away from civilization to release ONE snake this weekend. The other one remains at large, cruising my house in search of lizards.

I've never seen any lizards in my house, ever. I do see, somewhat regularly, my cat, who is amazing torked at me right now because we are fresh out of Fancy Feast and he is forced to eat (gasp!) dry food.

This is the same cat who "liberated" my Rosy Boas one Christmas vacation when I was away from home. Rosie, thank goodness, survived and hibernated in a book case all winter. The baby boa, however, wasn't so lucky. The mummified remains of his carcass were discovered months later when we replaced our dishwasher. (Otis must have felt guilty enough to hide the remains.)

So. I am on the lookout right now for one baby glossy snake and one overly satisfied, revenge-seeking cat.