I had intended to wait until all of the facts were clear to address the New Brunswick python situation, but it is becoming increasingly clear that this may never be the case. What follows below is my opinion, and I apologize if it offends.
There’s no sense beating around the bush: the New
Brunswick python story is a tragic situation.
If the case is as presented in the media, it speaks to great negligence
on the part of the snake’s owner. If it’s
not, perhaps it speaks to something even worse.
While many have rushed to conclusions, in my mind there
is still a great deal of room for doubt here.
The story as presented is, to put it mildly, completely bizarre. As a reptile biologist, educator, hobbyist
and one-time keeper of giant snakes (in a zoo setting) the details of the story
are difficult for me to fathom, and there are many unanswered questions. Why would this snake, or any snake, constrict
and kill something it did not then try to eat?
Why not one boy, but two? Why has
there been no mention of the bite marks, broken bones or extensive bruising
that would accompany constriction by a large python? How did a 45kg animal falling from the
ceiling and violently constricting two boys not draw the attention of the other
people in the house? How did the killing
of the first boy not wake the second?
And so on.
When reading the stories and watching the news, I think
it is important to keep in mind the great deal of conjecture, potential
misinformation and missing information involved, and to keep an open mind for
now. Regardless of the outcome though,
there is no doubt that this story has affected the way people look at
snakes. Angry mobs are calling for the
closure of zoos, a war on exotic pets and the banishment of those who keep
them.
Making matters worse is the fact that the reptile
community does – like many communities – play host to its fair share of sketchy
characters. And that the community, as a
whole, doesn’t have a history of responding to controversy in the most
professional, upstanding and responsible way.
In the last week I have seen not one but two individuals strolling
around downtown with snakes on their arms, an apparent act of solidarity that
serves only to alarm, frighten and generally worsen public perception.
While I am content to treat the New Brunswick situation
as an incredibly isolated incident (almost certainly unique in Canadian
history) and to accept the evidence as it comes, I worry about what this means
for the world that, in spite of its inadequacies, I have come to love. Reptile zoos, and even the reptile pet trade,
serve a vital purpose to educate and improve attitudes about the most imperiled
of Canada’s creatures.
I will be the first to agree that giant snakes, like the
African Rock Python, should not be allowed as house pets under any
condition. Their keeping should be
limited to qualified zoos with properly trained staff and the appropriate
safety measures. By-laws already address
this in most municipalities. But there
is a host of species that make excellent educational ambassadors, and even good
pets.
Take, for example, the humble Corn Snake. Captive bred for over 70 years, these peaceable
snakes do not exceed 2m in length and are incapable of harming anything larger
than a rat. Western Hognose Snakes are
short and fat, and make their living eating toads and salamanders. Rosy Boas could easily fit their entire body
on top of the head of one of their larger, better-known cousins, and can be
kept for their entire lives in a Rubbermaid sweaterbox.
Close-up experiences with these and other
responsibly-kept species help kids (and adults) overcome fears, replace
misinformation with knowledge, co-exist with their local fauna and contribute
to reptile conservation. They are the
kind of experiences that put me where I am today, teaching others about nature
and fighting for conservation through education and personal connection. For every shady snake guy, there is a host of
wonderful, responsible people providing lasting experiences in a safe manner.
Whatever the verdict in the New Brunswick case, I hope
that when the dust settles we can all take a step back and see reason. When (or if) the complete story comes to
light, the blame will fall squarely on the shoulders of a person, not an animal
or a community. We should support
reasonable rules and regulations for zoos and pet owners, and hold them
appropriately accountable, but we must realize the vital purpose they
serve. Protection, both of ourselves and
our wild neighbours, will be achieved not through fist-shaking, finger-pointing
and angry letters, but through tolerance, understanding and cooperation.
