I tried on a boa... constrictor

Well, that’s a bit of an overstatement since I wasn’t exactly wearing the snake like a pashmina but it was a boa constrictor and he did slither up my arm toward my shoulder like he wanted to hang out in the cave of my armpit until the sun came out.

     Sebastian is his name and he belongs to my friend John, who also has a couple other snakes, some geckos and – for all I know – an amphibious vehicle.

     Sebastian is actually kind of a handsome fella. He’s an albino boa, a kind that is apparently prized in the pet snake-osphere, and he’s cream-colored with butterscotch “saddles” – those diamond-shaped markings that grow more intense toward the snake’s tail.

     He’s also very young, maybe eight months old, and not quite half the five- to six-foot length he will be at maturity. He has mesmerizing eyes with lines that look like plus signs in them (giving him the appearance of being constantly starry-eyed) and a little forked tongue that he flicks in and out to “smell” what is nearby (in this case, me).

     That “smelling” is how boas find their prey. Most people know how constrictors work – grabbing their prey with their teeth, wrapping their coiled bodies around the intended dinner and squeezing until the victim can no longer draw air into its lungs. A leisurely dinner of – depending on the size of the snake – mouse, rat, rabbit, pig or deer, swallowed whole – then ensues.

     Feeling a boa constrictor move is quite a marvel. The snake stiffens its (many) ribs for support, then lifts its belly scales to propel itself forward. It tickled when Sebastian crawled on my arm, but I could feel the power in the movement.

     The strength – and size – of boas are likely what give them their menacing reputation, which folks who know snakes say is undeserved. Boas are not venomous, would just as soon avoid people as wrangle with them, and can be quite well-behaved. John says snakes have personalities, like all animals do, and characterizes Sebastian’s as “mellow.”

     After my first-ever get-together with a boa constrictor, I have no reason to disagree.

     Would I hang out with Sebastian again once he got to be six feet long?

     Sure.

     As long as he’d had a good meal long beforehand.