#70 - ESCAPES

Escapes can be a good thing - as long as they're temporary and you return to reality. Who doesn't like two hours of film that removes you from life for a short time? Who doesn't like the occasional night of somewhat irresponsible debauchery? How about a costume party or some kinky role-playing? The possibilities to be someone you're not are endless. We all need to escape some time.

For those of us who keep exotic terrarium pets, escapes of a whole different sort become commonplace. My decades of herpetoculture and arachnoculture have been filled with temporary, long-term and permanent escapees.

I've seen keepers refer to the blinding speed of spiders of the family Ctenidae. Yes, wandering spiders are fast, but they don't teleport like sparassids (huntsman spiders) do. They seem to time travel. Four days ago I was feeding my juvenile Heteropoda lunula. They had outgrown their 32 oz. deli cups so I decided to transfer them to gallon jars. I have a whole garage full now that I've sold off so many tarantulas. Now I usually do all my packing, unpacking, transferring and photographing of ctenids and sparassids in my shower stall. This IS the recommended procedure. But decades of experience doesn't make one immune to laziness or stupidity. I decided to do the transfer right on the work table in my spider room. I dropped the piece of cork tile the first H. lunula was resting upon into its new gallon jar home. I rapidly covered the opening of the jar with my flattened hand. I'm a big guy and have big paws. My hand completely covers the opening. I saw nothing move and I felt nothing touch my hand. But it didn't take me long to realize the jar was empty. I quickly searched the work table and surrounding area with a flashlight. Nothing. I searched for at least twenty minutes. Nothing. Not only can huntsman spiders teleport they can vanish too. Superpowers. I guess that's why I love them so much. I started to hope that the spider just had buried itself in the moss covering the substrate. My Barylestis scutatus often do this. I waited until after dark and checked the jar. Nothing. Days passed. Nothing. This morning I woke at 5 a.m. and decided to mist my spider terrariums before the timers switched on the lamps. As I sprayed the ExoTerra housing one of my Pachistopelma rufonigrum I saw a shadowy movement. My eyes had adjusted to the mostly dark early light of dawn and I saw the familiar shape of a crablike huntsman spider on the wall behind the shelves of terrariums. The H. lunula had been found. Of course, I had no capture cup at the ready. I found a deli cup that had held an ultimate male that was now in a female's cage and quickly dumped its contents in the trash while keeping the spider in my line of sight. Cooperatively, it actually moved up the wall and to the right where I would be able to reach it before it dashed behind the shelving units that line the entire wall. I didn't want it to do the spider trick of "drop and roll". I needed it to stay high up the wall or get on the ceiling. Thankfully I am tall and was easily able to reach up and trap it in the cup. Relief. Carefully I transferred it to the gallon jar. Capture. Success.

I recently hatched Poecilothera rufilata for the umpteenth time and have found a few of them around the house. Pokies are very cooperative - they tend to climb high and rest in their iconic stretched pose where the wall meets the ceiling. Spiderling escapes are common.

My best escape stories actually all involve snakes. I've had hundreds of loose snakes, geckos and spiders over the years, but some python stories are etched in my brain. When I was young and still living with my late mother I was very fortunate that she was the most supportive and understanding woman in the world. I had one ten foot python loose in our house for over six months! Seems hard to believe, doesn't it? It's not like it could hide in just any nook or cranny. My snake/spider room was in the basement and most of the finished basement had a suspended ceiling. You could see where she would move across the space between the ceiling tiles and actual ceiling because her weight would bend the aluminum ceiling tile grid. But she decided early on that she would live in the rafters above my snake room, which had a regular drywall ceiling instead of suspended ceiling tiles. I could stand on a ladder and see her between the rafters using a flashlight. She often would be coiled all the way at the end, twenty feet or so away from the nearest opening in the suspended ceiling. I tried baiting her with dead rats on string. I tried other ingenious tricks that failed. I tried making the world's longest telescopic snake hook, but she would just move her coils away and hiss. I began to consider the destruction of my snake room's ceiling, but I knew mom wouldn't be so supportive of that. At some point I thought she had found some other hiding place and perhaps had died. There were no sightings for an extended time. But there was also no stench of rotting snake corpse. One day I heard squealing. "Sittang", my Burmese python had found my youngest sister's pet guinea pig. The snake was finally found. But I would have to get to the pet store and buy a replacement pet for Erika.

Another time my mother was in the basement to do the laundry. She opened the washing machine and discovered an adult ball python inside. Like I wrote, I had a very special mother. I wasn't asked to move out or get rid of my snakes and spiders. She may not have been pleased and certainly was startled, but she fortunately was very accustomed to snakes.

Another time I was out of the house and my mother heard thrashing and crashing in the snake room, which I kept locked. Fortunately, I came home soon thereafter and we found that one of my Indian pythons had escaped and was trying to constrict my pet alligator. The snake was a good 40 or 50 pounds and the alligator about four feet long. I became the third member of the ménage à trois wrestling match. We all came out unscathed. This female Indian python also was later responsible for my worst ever python bite when she missed the ten pound rabbit I was chucking into her cage by hand (lesson learned) and snagged my forearm. Being a feeding action and not a defensive bite she of course coiled held and made me bleed. Teeth were left in the bite. Only now 25 years or so later are the scars gone (and tattoo covered).

My last python story for today involves the same Burmese python that was in the six months loose until finding guinea pig tale. "Sittang" was my first Burm and became huge. She was my pride and joy and I did many educational talks with her and many people had been photographed holding her, or at least a part of her immense body. One day my stepdad and mom and a few friends were all involved in holding her for a photo being taken in my mother's living room. Sittang became restless and began to glide through their arms. I was taking the photo and none of the holders clamped down on her. She got down to the carpet and then rose a bit and began pushing her head into the sofa cushions. Half of her length disappeared into the space upon which you sit. I had to take out my knife and cut away the fabric covering the bottom of the sofa to get her free.

I'll end this blog entry with the story of an escape that doesn't involve herp or arachnid. I've had a Dusky Pionus parrot for 25 years now. However, before Jesse I had a Senegal parrot named Lewis who sadly died after crashing into a window. That's a sad story, but this one predates that and has a happy ending. This is just before I moved out of the house. One day my mom put Lewis outside for some sun and fresh air while she mopped the area where her cage sat, but she didn't properly secure the cage door. Lewis was full-flighted (hence, the tragedy that took his life - keep flight feathers clipped!) and she flew the coop. Now I'm an old guy ... this is when cell phones first appeared and were thousands of dollars and the size of a cinder block. She had no way to reach me as I was out and about. Fortunately, she tracked me down at a friend's apartment by those old-fashioned landline phones and I rushed home. My stepdad had watched Lewis fly to neighboring trees and keep moving farther from home. He kept up with her and as I arrived on scene and rushed over Lewis flew over the big creek that separated our new subdivision from the older one on the other side. Panic ensued. I ran faster than I ever have. It was chaos. Finally Lewis was located in the other neighborhood, but he was high in a large and dense tree. I tried calling to him. He answered, but seemed disinclined to shorten his prison furlough. Believe it or not, Joel showed up in his car with two lawn chairs and a six pack of Corona. We were going to wait it out. Eventually Lewis flew to smaller trees in one backyard. This is where the story becomes even more amusing. Joel and I set up our lawn chairs and cracked a beer. The homeowner came out and found two strangers drinking in his driveway. I shit you not! We quickly explained, although he must have wondered what kind of drunks drink beer during emergencies. He actually asked us if he could come out on his own driveway to wash his car or something. Having Joel with me, who is the friendliest extrovert alive, helped with the whole trespassing with alcohol situation. Lewis called to me and I called back. He often would perch on a drapery rod or shower rod so he was used to flying to my shoulder and often would do it when called. All of a sudden he flew down to a young tree that was sparsely vegetated and not more than 10 feet high. I slowly walked toward the tree while calling and doing my little chirpy sounds. Lewis got excited and called back. I turned so that my shoulder was facing him and called again. Just like inside the house he flew from the sapling to my shoulder. I calmly pulled up my t-shirt and used it to wrap him up. Success. Another escape with a happy ending.

There were many that didn't have happy endings. I lost count of how many snakes escaped and were never seen again. Same thing with spiders. I wonder if any have been found by people who rented apartments after me or bought my first house or my mother's house. It's all part of the hobbies.

Until next time, MJ