As a homeschool mom for many years, I can appreciate the hoarding mentality. I truly can. I have a pretty eclectic collection of items that might one day be useful. As a classroom teacher, I have narrowed down my collection, but I still have a miniature steam engine, a plastic brain, enough feather pens to teach a small class, and petrified log. Finding animals on nature walks fascinates me, and I have been known to gather my class around a long dead possum to get a better look at the teeth and bone structure. I am not particularly squeamish when it comes to such things. Personally, I would rather find a dead possum than a live one.
Mom shared some of my appreciation for natural discoveries. Mom took it a little far. See, growing up there were pet animals and food animals. Dog-pet. Pig-food. We raised a handful of animals, and Dad believed in keeping them separate. He made an exception and let my sister keep an old rooster for a pet (Rodney), and after much arguing, I was able to convince him to allow me a pet rabbit, which Dad had firmly on the side of food. Despite the disagreement over the rabbit, I felt Dad had a pretty good idea here. I’ve no intention of eating a dog, and I prefer to keep rabbits out of my freezer. Similarly, I believe in keeping my freezer free of any animal that is not going to be dinner. I felt that way about purchasing mice to feed to my son’s pet snake, and I continue to feel this way.
Mom enjoyed sharing her love of nature with her grandkids. On her last fated trip to Vermont, in between hacking up a lung and reading a book sporting a medical mask, Mom discovered a 15-inch garter snake that had recently gone to be with Jesus. Most people would probably shriek and run off, some would stop and look for a moment in fascination, but the truly dedicated nature enthusiast would wrap that sucker up in Saran Wrap ™, place it in a grocery bag, and freeze it next to a few berries and a pint of ice cream. Then, she would transport it 5 hours home in a cooler amongst left over pasta and an open quart of milk to ensure her grandkids the opportunity to observe said snake. Sure, a less dedicated grandparent might take some close up photographs, but really, that’s just lame. Mom was no lame grandmother. That snake, slightly defrosted from its journey along the Appalachian Trail, went right back in the freezer in Mom’s kitchen awaiting the perfect summer day, to be thawed out and delight her favorite people in the world.
Sadly, Sidney Slitherpuss never got his cryogenically frozen day in the sun. Instead, he met with an unsuspecting man going about the mundane job of cleaning out his mother’s freezer. The events went something like this:
Eric(thinking): I wonder what could be in this bag. Let me just peek inside
<Stares into bag only to encounter a snake staring back. Drops bag on floor with less than gracious hospitality and emits high pitched squeal.>
Eric: WHAT THE HECK IS THAT! WHY IS THERE A SNAKE IN THE FREEZER?
<Mom, hearing the commotion from the other room, chuckles to herself. This was not what she intended for her scaly friend, but scaring the beejeebus out of her only son was a pleasant perk. >
Mom: Oh, you found the snake. I brought him home from Vermont to show Barbara’s kids.
Not at all amused by this turn of events, Eric discards the snake in the trashcan outside, without so much as sharing this joy with his niece and nephews. Shockingly, he didn’t even feel guilty about it. Savage.
