The Aaron Catastrophe

Catastrophe - a violent and sudden change in a feature of the earth.

There was a violent and sudden change in my world last Saturday night. For weeks, no make that months, I had worked on a plan to make my life simpler. That all changed in the blink of an eye. From now on, the event will be referred to simply as the "Aaron Catastrophe".

The evening had been planned for weeks, and was even given a name, "The Probing Party". The name was tossed around and refined and became "Dinner and a Probing". It should have been quite simple really. Friends from the zoo, specifically the herpetarium, would arrive around 6:30 in the evening. We would socialize, look at snakes, have an informal meal then probe snakes. What had been an annual event, with mainly just Brian and myself, was expanded to include everyone from the "herp", as it's affectionately called. After dinner, the real business of probing (sexing) 76 baby snakes would get down to business. It never happened that way.

Two invitees to the event were late and, as it was discovered later, even had supper at a local restaurant. They weren't just a little late, they were 2 hours late! While we patiently waited, alcohol was introduced. As soon as the rum and coke started flowing, I knew the probing would never take place. You don't mix alcohol and venomous snakes, it's just not a good idea. But what happened next would take me a full 9 days to correct. Yes, I'm talking about the "Aaron Catastrophe".

Anyone who has been around me for any length of time knows about my attention to detail. That attention really comes into play regarding the husbandry and care of my snakes. Over the years, a method has evolved that lets me give the greatest possible care in the limited amount of time I have during my work week. That same standard of care had come into play with last year's sizable amount of babies that needed to be fed on a regular schedule. So, to not totally overwhelm myself, I devised a plan where equal rows of babies would be fed on a certain day and, by keeping notes on an everyday wall calendar, I would have detailed records on when they fed, shed their skins, etc. Simple and efficient, correct? I thought so until the "Aaron Catastrophe". As soon as I heard "Aaron, Jim is going to be upset!", I knew there was a problem. I had NO idea how big the problem actually was...

The "Aaron Catastrophe". My neat, equal rows of babies (The Viper Bouquet) were now in shambles because Aaron was left unsupervised.

Nine days later, peace is restored to my universe. All babies have been fed and placed back in the proper order.

Mr. Way Too Proud of Texas Guy

I'm not sure if all the country is privy to the Bud Light "Real Men of Genius" commercials. Each one-minute commercial pays mock tribute to some "unsung hero". A couple that stand out in my mind are "Mr Foot-long Hot Dog Inventor" and "Mr Really Bad Toupee Wearer". However, the most recent commercial that's making the airwaves here in deep south Texas is aimed right smack dab at us Native Texans. It's simply called "Mr. Way Too Proud of Texas Guy".

Announcer: Today we salute you Mr. Way Too Proud of Texas Guy.

Horrific singer: Mr. Way Too Proud of Texas Guy!

Announcer: Men from lesser states might know their state's capital, but you? You know your state's bird, tree and even reptile.

Horrific singer: Love that horny toad!

OK, this is where I sort of got lost because I began going down the state's check list in my mind. State bird. Mockingbird. Check. State tree. Pecan. Check. State reptile. Horned LIZARD! Check.

The Texas horned lizard is the earliest reptile I remember seeing or catching as a child growing up in Bedford. They were always a welcome site in dad's garden and were quite abundant in the school yard of the Old Bedford School.

Even while living in Midland in the early 80's, it was not uncommon to find them in the alleys behind our house and on most farm roads going south out of the Midland/Odessa region. My daughter, Angela, will attest to this because I frequently made her jump out of the car to see if she could catch them. She was barely 5 years old at the time!

Because of habitat loss, the novelty pet trade and the spread of the imported fire ant, the Texas horned lizard's numbers have steadily declined over the years. They are now considered a threatened species across their range in Texas.

Since living in deep south Texas, I generally see one or two a year, mainly on the roads in Brooks, Jim Hogg, Starr and Zapata counties. It's still a treat to see one stand up as the car approaches, then dart across the road to safety. I still send my sightings to the Horned Lizard Conservation Society.

The names "horned frog","horned toad" and "horny toad" (re: Love that horny toad!) come from the round body and blunt nose which actually give it a toad or frog-like appearance. But this is no toad and it's sure not a frog! The most recent one I found was near Escobas, the most God-forsaken patch of earth I think I've ever seen. Survivorman couldn't survive in Escobas, much less a frog! We're talking Hell on Earth folks! But the hot, sandy habitat along with an abundance of harvester ant mounds (their preferred food), makes it an ideal location for the "horned toad".

Texas horned lizard photographed last year near Escobas.

By the way, I looked up "Mr. Way Too Proud of Texas Guy" on the Internet. I'll pick it up from the Horrific Singer:

Love that horny toad!

Announcer: You display your pride with your Lone Star tattoo, "Native Texan" bumper sticker, and contempt for any state that doesn't start with "Tex" and end with "as".

Horrific Singer: That spells Texas!

Announcer: Sure, there are 49 other states in the Union, but they are smaller, wussier, and the people talk funny.

Horrific Singer: Yankee wussies!

Announcer: So crack open a nice cold Bud Light, oh lover of the Lone Star state. Because all that flag waving must have made you thirsty!

Horrific Singer: Mr. Way Too Proud of Texas Guy!

OK, guilty as charged.