People generally assume that veterinarians are fearless creatures who can handle anything that walks, flies, crawls or slithers. I am afraid I have been an exception to that rule.
Although I spent my entire professional life treating animals, I have one confession to make—I am terribly scared of snakes!
Perhaps it is because I was born and brought up in the heart of Chennai. My acquaintance with snakes was mostly through pictures, story books and cinema. The only snakes I admired were those comfortably confined behind glass in a zoo!
Fortunately, throughout my veterinary career, not a single snake was ever brought to me for treatment. Looking back, I think the snakes also preferred to keep a safe distance from me!
There was, however, one notable exception.
While serving at the Veterinary Hospital, Saidapet, I was periodically assigned to visit the Children's Park at Guindy, a delightful little zoo maintained for the public. My duty was to examine the animals and birds and attend to their health.
The deers behaved like gentlemen, the monkeys like politicians, and the birds remained good patients. None of them gave me sleepless nights.
But there was also a python. Fortunately for both the python and me, it remained in excellent health throughout my visits. We developed an unwritten agreement. It would not fall sick, and I would not come too close! Whenever it was time for deworming, I would prescribe the appropriate medicine and politely leave the actual administration to the experienced animal keepers. I firmly believed that every member of the staff should be given an opportunity to display his talents!
But let me talk about snakes. People have always surrounded snakes with myths.
Some believe snakes drink milk. Snakes are carnivores and do not naturally drink milk. If a thirsty snake is seen lapping milk, it is usually because it is dehydrated—not because it enjoys a dairy diet.
Another popular belief is that a snake remembers the face of the person who harmed it and returns later for revenge. Fortunately, snakes are not running a criminal investigation department. They neither recognize human faces in that way nor plot revenge.
There is also the old story that if one snake is killed, its mate will come searching for the culprit. That may make a good movie script, but not good zoology.
Some people even believe that snakes dance to the music of a snake charmer's flute. In fact, snakes have no external ears and cannot appreciate music. They merely follow the movement of the flute—and perhaps wonder why the fellow holding it refuses to keep still!
Many gardeners ask whether certain plants can keep snakes away. Plants such as lemongrass, marigold, garlic, onion, and society garlic are often recommended in popular gardening circles as snake-repelling plants because of their strong smell. However, there is very little scientific evidence that these plants reliably drive snakes away.
The best way to discourage snakes from entering a garden is much simpler: keep the grass short, remove piles of stones, bricks and firewood, clear thick undergrowth, control rats and mice (which are snake food), and avoid leaving clutter where snakes can hide. A clean, open garden is far less inviting to a snake than one full of hiding places.
Even today, if I happen to see a snake on television, I admire it—from a respectful distance! So, you can imagine my feelings when confronted with a real python. As a veterinarian, I have examined horses weighing half a ton, restrained angry bulls, treated dogs that believed I was the enemy, and handled countless animals with confidence. But ask me to examine a snake, and I suddenly discover an urgent appointment somewhere else!
Perhaps every veterinarian has one species he secretly prefers to admire from a distance.
For me, that species has always been the snake.
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