thejunipertree

Dr. Pickles, the Engineer's Western Hognose snake, died on Friday night.

It was rather sudden and the Engineer will be giving the body to our snake vet for a necropsy and testing.

We're not really all that sure exactly what the fuck was wrong, but we are both very scared for the rest of our snakes at the moment.

Cut and pasted from the Engineer's journal:

he had not been eating, which was similar to this time last year so I had thought nothing of it, but still wanted to check in on him. He seemed blah and only barley interested in hating and killing me, which is unusual. Normally he'll put on a show of threat, daring you to approach him as he reared up hissing, inflating and deflating, to show you how much of a threat he is, which always subsided once he was picked up. This time he only kind of cared as he sat in my grasp in an unusual way. His butt (cloaca) was protruding a little, a sight which was not normal and made me wonder if I should take him in to the vet, after all it was Friday and the reptile guy at the animal hospital was in. So, I called and they were able to see him in 45 minutes. I packaged Dr. P in his travel Gladwear container, complete with new aspen bedding and a papertowel for him to hide under and went out the door along with his notebook, the book I write everything about him down in. When he eats, when he sheds, when he poops, when he doesn't eat, etc. And while managing to lock the front door while holding everything, I dropped him. I felt like such a fuck up. Here I'm taking him to the vet because he does not seem well and I drop him, something which I never wanted to allow to happen. I quickly picked his container up hoping that all the bedding in the container cushioned the landed. Thankfully, he seemed fine or as fine as before.

While driving to the vet I thought about Dr. P's butt and how he was probably trying to musk me because he was mad and that perhaps this vet trip was a waste of time and money, which during my current transition from work back into school, are both in short supply. But, no he hasn't been eating and this visit may not be in vain. What can it hurt was my adopted mantra.

When we got in to see the vet, the first test placed upon Dr. P. revealed questionable results. When he was turned on his back, a test to check for neurological problems, he pretty much stayed like that. Normally he would immediately right himself, but this time no. The vet feared the worst and so took some fecal and mouth samples to check for any anomalies. The results were not good. Dr. P. was very sick and with a severity that shocked and puzzled the vet. I believe "(He) had not seen this before," were his words. Dr. P. was infested with a high amount of a specific parasite which is treatable, but may even have a neurological problem which could be fatal. He gave him a shot of B12 and such to address the apparent concerns of the situation. I was sent home with oral medicine that was to be given to him every morning for ten days, wondering what I did or didn't do. Wondering how he got sick and if my other snakes were at risk. When I got home I cleaned his tank, gave him new bedding and washed all the items in his tank. And when I put him back in his tank he just stayed where I placed him. Even on the way home from the vet he didn't move from how he was placed in his container. And now he continued to simply stay. On a normal day once placed in the tank he would move and hide, acting like a grouchy old man muttering to himself about how things were back in his day and how the current generation is useless and wrong. But not this time. This time the old man in the tank was seemingly suffering from Alzheimer's. One of the first things noticed by the vet was the spacey look in Dr. P's eyes, as they were not attentive and did not seem to notice or care much about the world around him.

For the next several hours I checked on him twice, to which I got very minimal responses. It soon came time (7:30pm) to head out for the night as Tara and I had plans. So, I checked on Dr. P one last time before going out and he was dead. In the hope that I was wrong, and that he was in severe deep contemplation, I left him in the tank and went out for the night, but I knew he was dead. The news of which hit Tara pretty hard as I made my way to the car to leave.

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I also spoke with the vet, after Dr. P had left the vet's office, but before he died. After a bit of discussion, he told me he couldn't be quite sure if there was neurological condition because Dr. P is a hognose and if he was pissed off enough (between being dropped, going to the vet, and already being sick with something), he would go into "play dead" mode and that's why he wasn't turning over.

I don't know the name of the parasite (I didn't get it when I spoke to the vet) and he mentioned something about a bacteria (which I have written down in a notebook at work). He told me that if we just were careful with husbandry (washing hands between tanks and all that), things should be ok. But, I'm still planning on having fecal samples analyzed by the vet and/or bringing the rest of the snakes in to get checked out.

All of this is incredibly distressing as a. I loved Dr. P like nothing else in this world; he was my favorite from the Engineer's collection and b. I'm scared that what was wrong with him can infect the other snakes.

I'm trying not to wibble about it too much, though. Stressing out now, before we get any kind of lab results back, isn't going to do anyone any good.

I'll miss you, Dr. P. You were an angry little guy who tried your best to show the world the hatred seething in your guts, but failed miserably at this because of your goddamn cute face.

You were awesome and given half the chance (and hands), you probably would have ruled the world.