A Critter’s Tale

Let’s start with Rocky – he was a California Mountain King Snake, captive bred in Florida. We purchased him there and shipped him back to the state that his ancestors came from, and he remained in our care for the rest of his life. Rocky, like all of his kin, wore a beautiful banded pattern of red, black and yellow down the length of his body. Mountain Kings look very much like a Coral Snake – the difference being that on the King, the yellow (which often actually appears white) is banded on both sides by black, where the Coral has an alternating pattern of the three colors. The King is non-venomous; the Coral is definitely not! At some point, a rhyme was developed to help you remember which is which: “Red touch yellow, kill a fellow; red touch black, friendly jack.”

Although we had hoped to use Rocky for education purposes, like we did our Florida King and our Rosy Boas, he never really got to the point of being comfortable during handling – at least not to the extent we would have wanted if we were going to hold him around crowds of people for long periods. So, when we did use him, he remained in his aquarium as a visual example, rather than a hands-on version. But that wasn’t Rocky’s only quirk; just one of quite a few.

Rocky was the only snake we ever had that I was convinced could actually count. We fed him live baby mice – I know, I know, it sounds cruel, but the little dude had to eat, and unlike some captive snakes, he refused to eat the dead variety. He also knew exactly how many he wanted: if I gave him two, he would continue to hunt after they were eaten. Give him four and one of them would be left over and ignored … he wanted three per feeding and only three.

And, it turns out, he could also be easily intimidated. In order to understand that, you’ll need a little more information about the science of baby mice as food. When they’re first born, they are hairless and their skin is completely pink – in the language of pet food they are called “pinkies”. At about 7-10 days of age, they have a thin coating of fur and are called “fuzzies”. At about two weeks of age they are still pretty fuzzy, but their eyes have just begun to open and although they don’t see clearly, they can see movement and shadows. At that point, they develop a self-defense mechanism – whenever they sense danger, they hop straight up into the air – and strangely enough we call them … “hoppers”.

Nutritionally, the fuzzies are the best choice for most animals who aren’t big enough to handle a larger prey item – they have more calcium and other nutrients than the pinkies. Hoppers can actually be a little dangerous, depending on what you’re feeding them to. They really can launch themselves about 15 inches or more into the air, and of course, there’s no guidance system helping them land, so there’s a potential for them accidentally injuring the animal who’s hunting them. I got very good at specifically requesting “fuzzies” for Rocky when we purchased food, knowing that they offered the best chance of success. The problem arose because the sales person either didn’t hear me, or didn’t know what I meant, and I made the mistake of not asking to see them before he closed up the paper bag and we walked out of the pet store. One of the three mice in the bag was just learning his hopping skills, but by the time we discovered that, he was already in Rocky’s cage and I was not going to stick my hand in there to retrieve him when Rocky was already on the hunt! So, I just decided to give it a couple of days, making sure that there was enough water in the dish that the fuzzy could get a drink, and that there was a little food in there for him each day.

What ensued was two weeks of Rocky and this little white mouse cohabiting in the aquarium. Every time Rocky got close to him the first couple of days, he would leap into the air and often land on some part of Rocky’s body. It didn’t take too many of those episodes before Rocky spent most of his time hiding coiled in his rock cave at the far end of the aquarium, while the little mouse had free run of the digs and made his home on top of the heated rock at the opposite end. Not sure I blame him – it can’t be pleasant to focus in on your next meal, sneak up on it and have it suddenly disappear from your field of view. That would be unnerving enough – but to have it land with an unexpected thud on your back? No wonder he was a little reluctant to put himself out there!

Since the cage was in a hallway connecting the kitchen and living room with the bedrooms and laundry room, I probably walked by it ten to fifteen times on a normal day. It became quite a fascinating little study to see what the two of them were doing each time. One day I walked by and had to take a second look … what I thought I saw didn’t seem possible.

Rocky’s cage was lined on the bottom with about five or six layers of paper towels. He had burrowed his way into the middle of those layers (probably in self-defense from his roommate), and he was completely stretched out, right up against the front glass, sound asleep. Resting comfortably on top of the stack of paper towels, right in the middle of Rocky’s body, was our little white mouse … also, comfortably and completely asleep. If I can ever locate the photos that I took of that moment, I will make sure to post them – but, trust me, I’d never seen anything like that before, and I haven’t since!

Things finally came to a head on the day I walked by and saw our little mouse up on top of the heating rock, busily cleaning himself, while Rocky was doing his best to creep slowly across the aquarium, obviously stalking him. It had been about two weeks at this point since they’d been forced to live together, and I would imagine Rocky was once again feeling hungry. I stopped and stood still to see how this was going to play out …

Rocky got closer and closer without any indication that the mouse even saw him. But as he began to slither up the edge of the rock and came face to face with the little guy, he was suddenly attacked by two little white paws that repeatedly batted him in the face … and not gently! Poor Rocky immediately backed away, paused for a few moments and then turned slowly and went back to coil in his cave – and I’m sure he was sulking. That was the day I named the little mouse Hercules, and at the same time called my youngest daughter and asked her if she’d like to have a pet mouse. She agreed to take Hercules once I explained to her that I was concerned that Rocky was going to be irreparably harmed mentally, emotionally, and maybe physically, if we didn’t get him away from his little nemesis. A few days later, I managed to get Hercules out of the aquarium safely, and he went home with our daughter where he lived the rest of his life as a completely spoiled rodent.

In many ways, we can end up playing the part of Rocky in areas of our lives, when we should be taking on the role of Hercules. Rocky was intimidated out of using his God-given strengths, talents and design, because a little white mouse beat up on him and convinced him he wasn’t strong enough to succeed. Hercules on the other hand, for whatever reason, obviously decided that no one was going to be allowed to take him down without a fight.

In other words, Rocky didn’t get to eat while that pesky mouse was in what was actually his territory simply because after repeated blows from his opponent, he gave up and went to hide his hurts while sulking in a cave. Hercules fought for what he figured was rightfully his and succeeded in defeating a much stronger, and potentially deadly enemy, just because he believed he could.

Like Hercules, you and I have been set down in a place that is not only dangerous, but deadly. And we can’t succeed at what we’ve been designed for, or even protect ourselves, without help. But we haven’t been left here alone. We have a Champion who will give us the strength and ability to not only survive, but thrive in a world that is full of snakes. We just have to decide to stand strong, not in our own strength, but in God’s, and believe that we can triumph because we know that with God, all things are possible. Even if you’re feeling like a tiny mouse in a hungry snake’s cage. So, the next time things are tough and you’re at the point of wanting to slither into a cave and sulk, remember Rocky and Hercules and decide which one you’d rather be. Then reach out and ask God for what you need – he’ll rescue you.