Snake Handlin' II

I had been away at college less than a month. To say I was unaware as to how things worked at an institution with dormitories, deans, schools, and respected administrators would be to suggest that I was somewhat naïve, perhaps a little gullible, certainly trusting. It would also be true. I had grown up in a home where you did the right thing because it was the right thing to do; I tried to believe my friends were of the same mold (more or less).

I had gone for a walk with several of those friends after lunch on a Saturday afternoon in late September. The school was in a small rural town, and only blocks off campus the landscape turned into pastures, wheat fields, and streams bordered by cottonwoods and willows. That is where we headed. We’d barely reached the wheat fields and were passing through a road cut on one of the rolling hills when I looked up and saw something sticking out of an exposed gopher hole about a foot below the field level. It was a snake’s head. A good-sized snake head.
I asked my friends to stay in the road and keep an eye on the snake while I backtracked, went up into the field, intending to arrive just above the snake. What I wanted to do was to reach down over the cut edge and grab the snake just behind its head. It worked like a charm. I ended up pulling a western bull snake that was a well over four feet long (these constrictors grow up to eight feet long, and are among the largest of snakes in North America) out of that hole.

Of course my friends thought I was crazy, but neither of them had a biological bent to their thinking. They continued on their walk. I headed back to my dorm room, which I shared with one of the resident counselors. He wasn’t in at the time. So I was free to locate a box in which to store my treasure (for what, I didn’t know). Unlike the rubber boa I wrote about a few weeks back, a bull snake (also known as a gopher snake) can and will strike in self-defense. While not poisonous and lacking fangs, the teeth can cause a bloody wound. Somehow I got it into the box safely and piled all of my books on top to keep it there. I had no idea what I was going to do with it next.

After supper, one of the guys who had gone walking with me stopped by the room. He was a little surprised that I still had the snake. He suggested that he was acquainted with a girl who “probably” would like to see it. Trusting him, I opened the box and deftly grabbed the snake, which coiled itself around my forearm and part way up my upper arm; I was off to town, snake in tow.

What I didn’t know was that this girl (Shirley) was working the reception desk at the women’s dormitory. I had the sense to stop at the top of the entry steps, and didn’t go in. My friend went inside to get her. Believe it or not, she did come out and showed genuine interest in the snake. I relaxed a bit. Then she suggested that the Women’s Dean might like to see it. She went back inside, only to appear a moment later to say that the Dean was in her office and I could go in to see her. What I didn’t know was that Shirley had only told the Dean “there was a young man outside with something he wants to show you.”

I went where few men have trod: into the office of the Dean of Women with a four-foot plus bull snake. To make matters worse, the school President had been having a conversation with her and was sitting in a chair in front of her desk. I can remember clearly to this day the resulting responses. Before I had two words out of my mouth, the president was behind the Dean’s chair, and she was coming around the desk toward me. She was even more interested than Shirley had been. We remained on good terms for decades.

With her permission, I sat on a small couch in the lobby of the dorm for about a half hour. Many people (mostly female) passed by; only a few even saw the snake. Those that did kept going, albeit a little faster than when they had approached.

Over the years, I’ve pondered the several responses I saw that night. A fully-grown man had fled as far away as he could and still keep his dignity. The Dean responded with great interest, even to the point of stroking the snake’s head and noting the colored patterns in the scales. Others saw the snake, knew what it was, and wanted nothing to do with it. Most were unaware of its presence.

In many ways, people of this world respond to Satan in much the same manner. Some are drawn to and charmed by him. Others sense his presence and flee for safer ground. Unfortunately, more and more people are ignorant of his presence, maybe even of his existence. Bull snakes are harmless. Being ignorant of them is of no consequence. Satan is as dangerous when we are not aware of his presence as when we are, perhaps even more so.

It’s my prayer that we’ll all be able to keep our spiritual eyes open during our spiritual journey through life. He could be lurking in that tall grass right over there!

Dr. G