Introduction

I stared dumbly ahead of me, not really sure that it was finally happening.  The gila twitched behind the glass and moved one leg listlessly.  One of the beaded lizards caught sight of me moving beyond its cage and gave me what appeared to be a very annoyed glare.  I took a few deep breaths, trying to steady my now racing nerves.  I could do this, this was easy.  It was what I'd always wanted.

Some of you may know me, but most of you probably don't.  For starters, I'm currently a Zoology major at Auburn University.  I ended up on this track after 6 months spent interning in the Reptile Department at the Central Florida Zoo, where I learned to fall in love with reptiles, and most especially, snakes.


My attraction didn't stop at volunteering though, no, it came in and made itself at home in my personal life as well.  Mostly in the form of hognose snakes, though also in the form of an older, but very sweet ball python.

I guess you could say I was always the crazy kid.  The one who rolled on the floor with dogs at other peoples houses, and the one who spent almost all their free time outside, chasing and catching lizards and snakes.  I haven't changed much, not really.  I still catch lizards and snakes (and frogs and toads) but now I know a lot more about what I'm catching, and how to handle it.

With only a slight hesitation I reached over and unclipped the cage, pulling the door open, and reaching shakily in with the tongs.  There were only two gilas in the cage, and both were out within plain sight and easy reach.  I stretched the tongs out, and grabbed the first one.  With a grunt, I supported the tongs with my second hand, and tried very hard not to drop the venomous lizard.  It was heavy, heavier than I had anticipated, and with the weight of the tongs, it took everything I had just to turn and place the lizard in the spare tub behind me.  Once that task was successfully completed, I turned back to the remaining gila and prepared to move it to the tub as well.

Some people have jokingly nicknamed me Steve.  While the name doesn't really fit (I'm a girl) it is still appreciated.  I know a lot of people out there have no respect for Steve Irwin.  Whether they think he abused his son, or that he blatantly manhandled animals, they have that one thing in common.  A strong dislike of a man who did a lot for conservation.

I loved him as a child, and still do today.  I believe Terri when she said that he seemed to have a way with animals, and I see his death as a tragedy to the animal world.  Or at least as a great disruptor of Animal Planet's viewer count.  Like I said though, not everyone feels this way.  This dislike, placed upon him by many who one would assume to be fans, is just the tip of the ice burg, the very beginning of struggles and disputes in the herpetological community.  Debates that, as a student in Zoology looking to specialize in herps, I face almost everyday.

So I bring to you the reader, this blog, in hopes of giving just one more commonly silenced opinion in this unusually competitive field.  I'm not here to make a difference, or prove a point, merely to make a statement, and share with you an amazing world that has captured my heart, mind, and soul.

Job now done, and lizards safely contained, I moved toward the actual duty at hand.  Cleaning their cage and refreshing their water.  I was still incredibly jumpy from my first contact in officially working venomous, but the mundane task of cleaning gave my over-excited self a chance to calm down.  There were however, 4 more cages to clean, and the adrenaline rush would surely return for each and every one.  Still, I had begged for this, wanted this for so long, that I most certainly wasn't going to let a little stress run me off.  Besides, in a way, the adrenaline was what we lived for.