Catherine Palmer - City Girl

 

I'm a city person. I wasn't born in the city. I moved to the city, to the south side of Pittsburgh as an adult. Now, city people expect a couple things, light and noise. And we get pretty nervous if it gets too dark or too quiet. Now, we're the only people in our family that live in the city. My husband's four sisters live in dark, quiet places. And the darkest, quietest home is my sister-in-law who runs a hostel with her husband and her two little girls in the middle of nowhere. Now, this kind of nowhere is where there's no cell service, no internet access. And I found myself there one night after having been in a meeting in Philly, which is a very nice, noisy, bright city. 

 

And we had a lovely dinner and we were waiting to check in the next hostel guests. And it was getting later, and that was a problem because my niece was going to have a performance that night and somebody was going to have to stay behind. So, I volunteered. What could go wrong? I would be in a very dark, quiet place with no cell reception, letting strangers into the house. [audience laughter] Perfect. So I waved them off and I went to the living room to read a book. Turns out I can't read if it's completely quiet. I need a little bit of noise. So I headed to the kitchen to get a drink because you can do that in the dark and quiet. And I stopped in my tracks because there was a snake in front of me. Not a big snake, like a foot long, like maybe a baby snake. And the cat was pawing at it on the kitchen floor. 

So this is one of those moments where you stop and you're trying to make sense of something that absolutely does not make sense. So I assessed the situation. There was a baby snake on the floor. At least I assumed it was a baby. It was very small. The cat seemed to be involved in how it got there and oddly familiar with it. And my nieces were known to have strange pets up in their room. So I had to assume there was a mother snake that had a baby. But at this point, I realized I know very little about the reproductive habits of snakes. And with no internet access, this wasn't going to change. [audience laughter] So the only reasonable explanation is that this was a pet snake or the baby of a pet snake, and I needed to keep it safe from the cat. 

So three things were clear. I was not going touch this snake. I did need to do something to keep the cat away from it. And this was a perfect opportunity to become “the favorite aunt.” I could save the pet baby snake. So I got a clear casserole dish out of the cabinet and put it over the snake, so the snake could see out, but the cat couldn't get at it. Problem solved. So I headed back to the living room with my drink. [audience laughter] But I could not relax because I got thinking. How much oxygen is in a casserole? And how much oxygen does a baby snake need? And to this day, I don't know the answer to either of those questions. But I decided it would be safe if I went back, like every 10 minutes and just lifted the casserole, there'd be new oxygen, we'd be fine. 

 

So I headed back to the kitchen and there were four baby snakes. [audience laughter] One under the casserole, three loose. So I got three more baking dishes and sequestered the snakes. [audience laughter] And right then, there's a knock on the door. The hostel people have arrived. [audience laughter] Now, the good news is they don't need to come through the kitchen. So I get them, settled. But now it's been like 15 minutes, I've got to get back and get oxygen to all the baby snakes. [audience laughter] So I'm back and. And there are five new baby snakes. Okay, so I realized two things. One, snakes have litters of babies, clearly. And two, I don't have any more clear baking dishes. 

So I go over to the hostel to raid their baking dishes, and I come back with an armful and there are two more baby snakes added to the crowd. So, at the height of this, there are 11 baby snakes in glass cages all over the kitchen floor. [audience laughter] This is now a full-time activity, just getting them oxygen. And furthermore, it's not a big kitchen. So I'm using the baking dishes as stepping stones as I navigate this space. I am all in, but it's okay. Because really, all I have to do is wait for my nieces to come home and shower me in love and praise for what I have gone through to protect their pet baby snakes. I'm kind of growing attached to my charges and I hear the car, they're home, and my older niece comes in the door and she says, “Oh, not again.” This is not the greeting I expected. And she and her sister unceremoniously lift up the baking dishes, grab the snakes and throw them out the kitchen door into the forest. 

 

So later I would find the adult snakes come into their basement and lay eggs. Now I know how snakes reproduce. And the cat can't resist just depositing them all over the house. [audience laughter] So as we're starting to clean up, my sister-in-law turns to me and says, “Now, if this ever happens again, the look on my face must have made it clear this was never going to happen.” [audience laughter] So I settled in to wash 11 casserole dishes and look forward to going back to the city. [audience laughter]