During the four hours of my return flight from visiting a friend in Arizona, who was recovering from a serious Mojave Rattlesnake (Crotalus scutulatus) envenomation, I had considerable time for reflection on the implications of interrelating with venomous animals.

My friend has been handling snakes and other animals for many more years than he would like to admit, and has spent the past fifteen years professionally milking Mojave Rattlesnake venom to supply research labs. He is conscientious, methodical, and fully aware of the implications of what he is doing-- not the type who takes chances. Incidentally, his facility is in a small, isolated community, 120 air miles from the nearest properly equipped hospital.

[Ironically, the venom he collects is used to produce the new CroFab antivenin (C. Harper, New anti venom, CroFab, hits the market. SHHS fall 2000), and none was available for him.]

While holding the snake’s head in the prescribed three-fingered grip he has used thousands of times, it twisted scratching him on the knuckle of his index finger with one fang. The scratch was superficial, so much so that it was difficult to squeeze out any blood. Being completely aware of what happened, he chose to be cautious and applied an EXTRACTOR in less than a minute, successfully removing a quantity of blood and associated fluids. Simultaneously he called the local volunteer fire department and EMTs (located less than a half mile away) to alert them to the possible implications, and to make preparations if they were needed. To expedite transferring him to the hospital, a medical emergency helicopter was put on hold. Calls were made to the two major hospitals within his area to alert them, the Tucson Medical Center and a closer hospital.

[Incidentally, he is a volunteer fireman in his community, and had been a professional fireman in the past, so he is well versed in all the necessary emergency procedures. Because of his venom production facility, and another somewhat clandestine one nearby, the volunteers have considerably more than basic training to respond to snakebites. They had an opportunity to utilize their snakebite protocol a year earlier when a Western Diamondback (Crotalus atrox) envenomated a local 11-year-old boy. The response and procedures went smoothly and he survived.]

In a few minutes reactions to the bite were unmistakable, and emergency procedures were enacted. EMTs inserted two IVs and transported him to the helipad at the firehouse. Weather was a problem, it was windy and rainy, so the helicopter was uncertain it could respond. Weather conditions were very bad in Tucson, so the closer hospital was chosen. Symptoms increased rapidly, his lips were numbing, his legs and stomach were cramping, and he was passing into and out of consciousness. The pain was intense, unbearable.

Fortunately the weather broke enough for the helicopter to land. While flying to the hospital (within 35-40 minutes of the envenomation) he lost consciousness. He learned later that by the time he arrived at the hospital the affect of the bite was dire... he was near death. Several hours later he awakened in Intensive Care (ICU) unaware of the emergency procedures that he had undergone.

After administering 14 ampoules (the hospital’s total supply) of Wyeth Polyvalent Antivenin via IV, and spending 4 days in ICU, he was released and returned home. A week later he noticed he was having trouble focusing one eye. Two blood vessels in the cornea had burst from increased blood pressure. The Doctor prescribed medicine to lower his blood pressure and it seems to be improving.

Although I’ve captured, handled, or kept a wide variety of more than a thousand venomous snakes over the past 40 plus years, I’ve been extremely fortunate to never be bitten. This has special significance because nearly everyone I know (who shares my extended interest) has undergone the experience at least once. And, all of them admit that it was a uniquely unpleasant and unforgettable ordeal, with innumerable repercussions.

Some consider me to be lucky. I see it as an ongoing incentive for being cautious and aware. Sure, I’ve had a few close encounters, mostly while posing and photographing rattlesnakes. Being engrossed in getting "just the right shot" easily led to over-stepping my self-imposed bounds. The snakes saw it as an opportunity to do what it innately does, to demonstrate that I was invading its turf.

The positive spin is that they were learning experiences, fortifying my need to be more wary—to be more prepared. Because of my longtime association with venomous animals you may think it a bit odd, but I truly believe keeping venomous snakes is an accident waiting to happen!

Make no mistake-- rattlesnakes are incredibly beautiful, unique snakes, and my passion goes far beyond the norm. I actively seek out new and different forms to photograph, and keep up on the literature in an attempt to learn as much as I can about them. Photographing all the living species and subspecies is becoming an obsession. Hopefully this will lead to a more inclusive, updated, expanded, second edition of my book. At the very least, it’s a goal!

[Please accept my apologies for the somewhat self-serving pep talk, but I feel that any aside that reinforces the need for caution is well worth highlighting.]

Although it may seem trivial, the two most important considerations about keeping venomous animals are—knowing exactly what to do when you are bitten, and fully understanding the potential danger and liabilities. I will not make this article a treatise on the hazards, gruesome details, and permanent consequences of undergoing envenomation. That must be a "gimme" for anyone even thinking about keeping venomous animals; unless, of course, he/she is too impetuous—or just plain stupid!

Like any job requiring repetitious and rather mundane activities-- in this case cleaning cages and changing water dishes-- it is extremely easy for the mind to become preoccupied with more complex, demanding matters. After all, cleaning snake feces is a menial task. It is too simple to assume a snake lying quietly in its favorite spot is asleep, as it is every day, unaware or unconcerned about your presence. Why disturb and move it into the shift cage, or take it from the enclosure? After all, it never has become aroused or aggressive before!

Many procedures (e.g., transferring a snake from one cage to another, or feeding) are done without help or having someone near enough to respond if needed. Clearly, there is considerable danger of being bitten. And, in time it will happen! Just ask any keeper that has been bitten.

My emphasis (actually more of an obligation) is on the liability factor—the sizable legal and financial implications. If you have any interest in keeping venomous animals, I suggest you read this part carefully. It may bring objectivity and rationality to your thinking, and awaken you to the extensive monetary risks that you are undertaking. It may save you from a financial catastrophe of epic proportions.

Treatment for envenomation is expensive, very expensive. My friend’s bill was at the low end, it was in excess of $40,000. Another friend’s Eastern Diamondback (Crotalus adamanteus) bite was more than $89,000, and I know of yet another person bitten by an Eastern Diamondback a few years ago that topped $162,000. Fortunately, they were all working as professional herpetologists, insured, and covered by Workman’s Compensation, so someone else paid the majority of the bill. Imagine the strain of not being covered, of having to pay even part of it!

As with any medical procedures that encompass emergency, life-saving measures, tests, I.C.U, and extended hospital care, the costs are high, and build up quickly. The number of antivenin ampoules varies, but rarely is less than 20, with an Eastern Diamondback bite as many as 30. The per-unit cost is high, but because it must be administered in a hospital, by I.V. it will be billed at $550- $950 per ampoule. And, of course an adequate supply of in date antivenin must be available.

If you have health insurance, does it cover snakebite? There may be a very important distinction in the terminology of "accidental" snake envenomation. How, where, and why you were bitten are important variables that will be considered. Because of the amount of money that must be paid, an insurance company will likely do its best to assure the legitimacy of the claim.

Another thing that must be considered is the legality of keeping the snake. Many states and local municipalities have made it illegal to possess "dangerous" animals. The vagueness of their wording opens a door for clarification, but likely entails hiring a lawyer. Who pays for this? Because emergency personnel and hospitals are required to report accidents, police will be informed. State Game and Fish, conservation, and possibly health authorities may enter fray. This would entail more lawyers and legal advice.

Local media will be made aware, and if it is a "slow news day" you may become a "star". Then there is the possibility of having endangered others (e.g., neighbors, friends, visitors). I’ll bet there is a least one neighbor who would gladly be interviewed, and jump all over the threat you had placed on his/her family by possessing a dangerous animal.

Let’s assume that you have done nothing wrong, that you are keeping your animal as safely as possible, but it escapes and bites someone. There is no doubt that, by possessing the animal, you are responsible for its actions. To carry it still further, if a person breaks into your house and somehow is envenomated—it’s your fault.

Here’s yet another scenario. You are showing a snake to a friend, or he/she is helping you clean cages and is bitten. Who pays? You do! Will your homeowner’s insurance cover it? Do you have homeowner’s insurance?

We live in an extremely litigious society, suing is a matter of course. Make no mistake-- the one found to be at fault loses—big time! Venomous snakebites are costly, but the repercussions and peripheral expenditures can easily place an insurmountable financial burden on the hapless keeper.

I am not merely preaching, I gave considerable thought, weighed the possibilities, and no longer keep venomous animals.

Once again I ask—Are you really prepared?