Hello Knuckles, My Old Friend

Our snake Knuckles died today, and I am the only one that cares. Knuckles was my stepson Oliver's snake; he bought him when he was a little boy. But since I've been in Oliver's life, he hasn't cared much for Knuckles.

A few years back, Knuckles shed his skin. Oliver looked at him and said, "This is the most exciting thing Knuckles has ever done." Snakes don't fetch or cuddle or lick. A nice Albino corn snake, Knuckles just wanted to be warm and hang out. Don't we all.

My husband Mark really kept Knuckles alive, but he seems fine with his passing. I liked Knuckles, and what a great name, but he had to be fed rodents every two weeks and that is not my bag. Since Mark is a chef, hardy and unafraid of hot places and dead animals, it was his job to buy the frozen creatures at Petco, store them in the freezer, and then periodically defrost them. I would come into the kitchen and see a plate covering a bowl in the sink and ask, "Is this what I think it is?" Mark: "Don't look."

One time, there were no mice available and Mark fed him a rat instead. That didn't agree with Knuckles so he barfed. Okay, TMI. And about once a month or so, Mark would make Oliver help him clean out the snake home. Which is pretty large and takes up a lot of space. Right before we moved I complained about the smell so they cleaned it. Maybe Knuckles was sending us a sign.

But, there were upsides to Knuckles. Vivien liked him a lot. We would take him out and he would move around on the bed, or we'd drape him around her. I was proud my girl wasn't such a girly girl. Other kids would be nervous, but Viv and my niece and nephew thought he was fun. She was never scared of Knuckles. She liked him. And you know that thing about how you pick your porn or stripper name based on the name of your first pet and the street you grew up on? Well, with a first name like Knuckles, Vivien has a stripper name that will kick some a–. It's the name of a 1930s gangster or henchman. I think it protects a woman not to have a "sexy" stripper name. Mine is Fishey Moloney. I would never make a living on the pole with that moniker.

I asked Vivien if she knew what it means to die. She said yes. I doubt it. I told her we can't play with Knuckles anymore. She didn't seem to get it. I'm going to miss the slithering around part, but it will free up a lot of space in Oliver's room.