/mike

Warning, this is a long one.

What started off as a pretty normal Saturday morning quickly escalated into a flurry of activity when, while watching the Ze Frank podcast, I received an interesting phone call. The call came in on my cell phone and when I looked at the number it wasn’t immediately recognizable. It was local but as with most cell phones, the caller ID doesn’t include a name unless it’s in your phonebook.

I leisurely answered the phone with what I’m sure sounded like a very tired, “Hello?”

The young woman on the other end of the line had a bit of an accent — Spanish if my tired ears were on top of their game. After a shortened hello she proceeded to ask, “What do you feed a snake?”

A bit shocked I stated, “I feed mine frozen mice.”

“What?” There was an obvious buzz of activity in the background. I could hear distant voices straining to confirm what I had just said.

“I feed mine mice.”

During a short pause in our conversation the message was relayed to those in the background. The buzzing and debate continued along while I attempted to figure out why, seemingly out of the blue, someone was asking me what to feed a snake. In order to bring this young woman back to our conversation I asked, “Why do you need to know?”

“Well, I caught a snake at the Regency Suites and I was told to call you. You’re a snake expert right? You take care of these things?”

My mind finally snapped all the pieces of the puzzle together and I instantly sat up on the couch. “What does the snake look like?”

“It’s alive but it doesn’t look very good. That’s why I asked what they eat because it looks like it could probably use some food.”

Getting a little more agitated I clarified, “No, what colour is it? Is it pink and white?”

“Yes.”

“That’s my snake! Who is this?”

Her response was innocent enough but not really what I was looking for. “This is the front desk.”

I was really looking for her name because we had met previously and I had forgotten. My goal was to let her know that I was Jessica’s roommate and, since Jessica used to work there, a connection of who we both were would be made. At this point I didn’t have the patience to continue along that path. My goal was to get Phillip back. “I’ll be there within the hour.”

In what was probably my fastest shower ever and the grace of the green light I managed to get to the Regency Suites within 35 minutes. At this point my thought process was that Phillip was found. He was a little worse for wear but he was alive. Little did I know this was only the beginning.

As I sprang through the front doors Margarita — yes, that’s her name but I may have spelled it wrong — the front desk clerk greeted me with a smile. Instantly we both knew that it was my snake. After the pleasant hello’s she let me know that she had thought I left already.

A quick “Not yet.” was all she got from me as she went into the back office to retrieve Phillip. As Phillip was brought out in the feeding container I had left with them I didn’t notice any movement.

“He’s still alive?” I questioned.

“Yeah, see.” was the response as she flicked the plastic container.

A sudden anger rose over me and I immediately thought that she probably smacks the glass area the hold the puppies in at pet stores. With more important things to take care of I calmed myself down. There was some movement in the container but not much.

Phillips face and upper part of his neck looked almost flat and was tilted at an odd angle. He was lying on what looked like a piece of paper or thin cardboard covered with a thing gooey substance. “This is probably just what they used to get him in the container.” I thought to myself.

While the majority of Phillips body looked normal, dirty and a little roughed up but normal nonetheless, the upper portion of his neck scared me the most. It looked as if he had been stabbed or punctured and the bodily fluids and muscles may have drained out of his body. My heart started to race.

Still unsure of this cardboard and goo Phillip was lying in I asked “What is he on?”

“I’m not sure.” was not the response I was expecting. This was especially curious as she had mentioned she caught the snake. She explained further that “I think it’s something the maintenance guy uses.” That was all the information I would get on that subject.

With my heart still racing I said a hurried good-bye and headed towards my car. Immediately Phillip began twisting and writhing around in his plastic jail. Once I got into my car I fully realized what exactly was going on with the cardboard. It was actually a rodent trap and Phillips head and upper neck were stuck. As he struggled valiantly to set himself free I sped home, hoping the entire way that, in a fit of instinct and strength, he would not pull hard enough to rip his own skin.

“Take it easy buddy, I’ll get you out of this mess.” I reassured him.

As I rushed into the house, Phillip in hand, I immediately thought of ways to help him detach his head from this glue. Thoughts of cutting the glue away came first. Shortly after attempting to cover as much of the sharp blade as possible while still trying to actually cut glue I realized the follies of my ways.

The next step was to call an animal or reptile hospital and plead for some sage wisdom on how to free my friend from this trap. A quick Google search returned some relevant results. This first name on the list, a doctor at the Calgary Zoo, went straight to voicemail. As I dialed the second number I held up Phillips plastic prison and read a portion of the text on the flip side of the gooey cardboard.

It suggested I use paint thinner to remove any skin that makes contact with the trap. That option was definitely out. In the meantime a receptionist had answered my call, “Can you please hold for a minute?”

“Yes.” I replied in a slightly despondent voice. I returned to reading the traps instructions, hoping to find a safe way to release Phillip from his bondage.

Success! The next paragraph offered suggestions on how to release animals stuck to the trap. My choices now became ice, vegetable oil or mineral oil. Unfortunately with my ineptitude in the kitchen I had now idea whether Virgin Olive Oil or Crisco was considered vegetable oil or mineral or something else entirely. A quick check of the freezer reminded me I had no ice.

Frantically I started making phone calls. On the third try I mom answered her phone. Her advice was to get some mineral oil from the nearest drug store. That was good enough for me. On my way out of the house I told Phillip to hang on and that I’d be back to get him out.

The trip was very short and I cracked open the container holding Phillip and the trap with a bottle of mineral oil in hand. I tilted the trap so his nose was pointing up and carefully poured a good portion of oil down one side of Phillips body where it was attached to the glue. Phillips immediate reaction was to violently start pulling away from the trap.

In an attempt to speed the process and aid my friend I was gently prodding and pushing his body away from the glue at the neck area. My goal was to detach Phillip from the bottom up, leaving his jaw for last. Phillips idea was just the opposite, pull backwards and up. This put his lower jaw at a very odd and slightly disturbing angle.

As I was prodding the area around his jaw I could feel that it was severely out of place. My first thought was that it could potentially stay that way and hamper his eating habits. Together we pushed on. I ever so gently poured more mineral oil down the other side of Phillips body where it was stuck to the trap. Again, he began pulling himself away from the trap using all his strength. At this point I could see some progress was being made.

After what seemed like 10 minutes — but in reality was only two — of working to get Phillip free it was now down to his jaw being the last part still trapped in the glue. With some careful prods from me and continued pulling by himself, Phillip finally managed to get free.

This was definitely something he was nat going to take lightly as he quickly worked to get himself as far away from the trap as possible. Covered in mineral oil he did his best to escape my grasp and get away. I managed to keep him in his feeding container and remove the trap.

After disposing of the trap I quickly inspected Phillips face and body. Everything seemed to be in place and there didn’t look to be any open soars or bleeding of any type. He was moving around and other than the scare of his life he seemed to be okay.

I grabbed his aquarium from the garage and set it up in my room. After evening out his bedding and getting the heat lamp set up again it was time to give Phillip a little bit of a bath. Filling the sink up with warm water I took him from the feeding container into the sink and gently soaked him in the water while keeping his head from going under. I could feel bits of the outer layer of his skin coming off in my hand, a side effect from pulling the majority of his body off of the glue.

After most of the dirt and some of the oil was washed off I took my friend to his home and watched him reacquaint himself to his surroundings. I washed and filled up his water dish with some nice cool water as I’m sure the trauma of wrenching oneself free as he did could work up a vicious thirst.

“Don’t worry little buddy, I won’t let this happen to you ever again.” I pledged to him as I watched him check out the familiar surroundings. “From now on the lid stays covered with heavy objects and your heat lamp goes wherever you do.”

The instruction on the trap

The glue side of the trap

He’s free!