ANCHORAGE DAILY NEWS (Alaska) 28 October 05 Experts say those wanting reptiles should be prepared for work (Rose Cox)
Anchorage, Alaska: A funny thing happened to Rep. Harry Crawford while he was polling constituents door-to-door about their concerns.
Maria vonKoehnen welcomed him into her Muldoon residence with "I've got a concern, and it's right in here." In the back bedroom, Crawford met Balinda, her Burmese python. At 14 feet long and weighing 130 pounds, this is a snake with a capital "S."
Crawford, state House representative for District 21, grew up in Louisiana, "where snakes are poisonous and alligators will hurt you." Once Balinda got his attention, vonKoehnen asked him to amend an Alaska law that bans venomous reptiles. If the amendment, HB 159, passes, it also would ban selling, breeding and bartering nonvenomous snakes like Balinda and other large reptiles.
This may seem an odd request from the owner of a python. But since vonKoehnen agreed to house Balinda in 2002 until an owner could be found, she has rescued dozens of other reptiles — 50 snakes, 18 iguanas, three turtles, a tortoise and an American alligator, to be exact.
Some took themselves for a walk, or were abandoned when their owners moved. Many were dropped at the municipal Animal Care and Control Center after they became too difficult or dangerous to care for. Some were referred by local veterinarians.
At best, all were without an owner to provide for their highly specific needs. At worst, they were on death's door due to unsuitable diets or habitats or untreated wounds.
Stories told by vonKoehnen and others sound like urban legends — an iguana living under a trailer house at Manoog's Isle, a teenager riding around with an alligator in the bed of her pickup truck, a baby alligator becoming an attraction at a Fifth Avenue bar.
But some of the world's largest reptiles are living — and dying — in Anchorage, and some people don't feel it's right.
The Humane Society of the United States estimates that the number of pet reptiles in this country reached 11 million in 2005. The organization calls the increase of 2 million in the past two years alone an "explosion" and is lobbying along with other animal rights groups for more restrictions.
How many large reptiles are in Alaska is anybody's guess, but one thing is clear: Reptile sales are a $5 billion-and-growing business in the United States, and the Internet is making them even easier to procure.
Linda Morgan, owner of the Animal House pet store, has been in business at various locations in Anchorage since 1985. She said reptiles account for about 25 percent of her sales. The store has moved about a dozen alligators since January, she said.
The shop screens potential owners, Morgan said, but she can't visit their homes.
"If someone comes in and wants to buy a snake or reptile that is going to get large, we let them know what they're getting into. But life changes. Things happen to people, things go wrong."
Morgan said she tells customers if they find they can't care for any animal purchased there, the store will find it a home or sell it on consignment. Plenty of customers take the offer, even though there is no refund.
"We don't rent animals," she said. "It all goes back to the same thing — whether it's a dog, cat, bird or ferret. It's pet owner responsibility."
Reptiles are also a significant part of Denali Pets' business, said manager Laura Sokol, who figures 98 percent of sales are impulse buys.
"Someone comes in and sees something — their friend had a cool snake, but they don't know anything about it. That's the average customer. Pretty uneducated."
Green iguanas, which are listed on Crawford's bill, have become popular, inexpensive pets in recent years.
"Iguanas are the hardest thing to take care of and the No. 1 reptile that dies within a couple weeks. People think of them as starter pets, but they get 6 feet long," Sokol said.
An adult male iguana can be a fierce, territorial beast when it's in rut. Their bull-whip tails can draw blood, and their teeth can take off a finger.
Karen Decker-Brown, a family nurse practitioner, has rescued a bevy of iguanas and become an expert in their care. She and vonKoehnen are just two of three listed by municipal animal shelter as people to call in a pinch.
In summer, Decker-Brown grows the plants needed for the iguanas' specific diet and has devoted entire rooms in her South Anchorage house to adult animals that have become permanent residents.
"Alaska is not the place for cold-blooded animals," she said. "And I've seen too many people get them on a whim and think they're a neat pet for six months."
Burmese pythons, native to Southeast Asia, can grow to 20 feet long and 200 pounds, according to Melissa Kaplin's Web site at http://www.anapsid.org
Kaplin, who calls herself an "animal welfarist," cautions would-be owners to consider carefully before committing to a reptile that "urinates and defecates like a horse" and will require a steady diet of mice, rats and, eventually, rabbits over a 25-year life span.
So who would want to own one?
"There is definitely a strong animal-human bond between people and reptiles," said exotic pet vet Dr. Jackie Frederickson. "I think it's an individual thing. If you don't bond with reptiles, I don't think it's something you can ever understand."
Mary Jane, a Burmese python, won Paul Oehrlein's heart the minute he met her.
"She crawled up on my chest and fell asleep, and she's been with me ever since. She's my little buddy."
"Little" is clearly a term of endearment. Eight years ago, he could hold her in one hand. Two years ago, she fit in a 180-gallon aquarium. Now she's 12 feet long, and her cage takes half the living room wall in his Midtown house.
So sensitive to vibrations she can feel Oehrlein's footsteps at the front door, Mary Jane begins nosing the glass to get out when he arrives from work.
After her cage door is unlatched, her mahogany spots with lacy taupe edges ease over a 2-foot drop. Her muscles contract, and the scales on her underside rustle as she meanders across the carpet and up the couch. Her flickering tongue clacks softly on its leather surface. Her long, slow exhales are audible.
She drapes her head between two pillows on the arm of the couch, appearing to gaze languidly out the window, even though pythons' eyesight is poor.
The enclosure Oehrlein built for Mary Jane holds a bank of full-spectrum lights, necessary for reptiles' proper digestion. Six heaters maintain a steady 85 degrees, since snakes can't regulate their body heat. In addition to manzanita branches for climbing and an electric blanket covered by a down comforter, the cage holds a sleeping box.
"She needs an area with complete darkness so she can get dormant sleep. Their eyelids stay open, so if they're on display they can never completely rest."
Twice a day, Oehrlein places a pot of boiling water in her cage to humidify the air and help her breathe — Mary Jane suffers from a recurring lung condition exacerbated by dry air. He bathes her daily in the tub, where she defecates and drinks. He appreciates a well-formed stool, and if things aren't quite right, he calls Frederickson. Ditto if she's wheezing or her mouth appears frothy.
Mary Jane is the picture of a well-socialized Burmese. Oehrlein credits her queenly demeanor to daily handling and proper feeding (no live prey, and no feeding in the cage). Although her fangs are significant, she has never struck him, even when he has administered shots to treat her lung condition. He trusts her so completely, she often sleeps in his bed, although her scales tend to tear up the sheets.
"I know this snake like my own child," he said. "She's a very loving animal. When they get big like this and they're tame, they are priceless. But you really gotta do some research. Education is the key to everything."
Treating reptiles is about 25 percent of Frederickson's business at VCA Alaska Pet Care. She probably sees the cream of the crop as far as reptile owners go — those with an avid interest, who know how to care for them and when to seek help, and are willing to invest much time and money in the process over many years.
She treats Burmese pythons fairly routinely.
"That's not typically a dangerous reptile, although I have been bitten by one," she said. "They strike quickly. They have very sharp teeth."
She has seen a few anacondas purchased from local pet stores in the past few months and believes they are not a good size for a private residence. And she's seeing an increase in tortoises at the clinic, she said. "They're a nice pet, but some are going to be huge." Imagine a pet the size of a dinner table that can live up to 75 years.
Dr. Catherine Winn at Aurora Pet Paradise also treats exotic pets. Healthy reptiles tend to get adopted, but some that Winn sees are on their last legs.
"These guys end up changing hands a lot. People don't realize what they're getting into, and it puts us in a difficult position to save them when they're almost dead."
Dr. Riley Wilson, a veterinarian and owner of the Pet Stop, also treats reptiles.
"I think reptiles make great pets. Just get one you can provide a habitat for as they get older," he cautions.
Dumping reptiles at animal shelters when they become too large or dangerous to care for is common nationwide. Since January 2004, Anchorage Animal Care and Control has taken in 21 snakes, six turtles, seven lizards and three frogs, said Maria Martin, the shelter's public relations coordinator.
Three of the reptiles were dead on arrival, and the shelter cremated their remains by owner request. Another 13 were euthanized for a variety of reasons. The rest were adopted or went to rescuers.
The shelter called Winn, the vet at Aurora Pet Paradise's clinic, to euthanize a breeding trio of Burmese pythons in 2004.
"They were brought in in sleeping bags," she said. "The gal there didn't know how to euthanize them, and she didn't want to get hurt."
Other rescues by Winn include a Savanna monitor, boa constrictors and, most recently, a baby alligator abandoned in an apartment. The shelter asked her to put it down, but she decided not to.
"It was a cute little alligator, and I suspected there are plenty of people who would like to have it as a pet."
The 2-foot baby found a suitable home at The Setter bar, which built an aquarium with a waterfall to house it.
"We decided we needed something to attract customers, and an alligator sounded good," said Marco Gonzalez, the animal's caretaker and the previous owner of an iguana and a boa constrictor. Although Gonzalez thinks Boots is "a lot of fun," the baby has already earned his respect.
"The first time I fed him, I wasn't thinking and put my hand down there. He shot up and snapped that thing right out of my hand. If he'd gotten one of my fingers, I probably wouldn't have a finger right now."
VonKoehnen has likely invested more time and money into rescuing Anchorage reptiles than anyone. Her vet bills for Balinda alone range upward of $7,000. She has talked to the Municipal Assembly and attended Animal Care and Control meetings, in addition to asking Crawford to amend Alaska law.
"I've been on a one-person crusade with this thing for three years. I just want to see something done, and eventually it will get passed. It's just a matter of when and how."
HB 159 is based on model legislation provided by the Animal Protection Institute. It applies to boas, pythons and anacondas with the potential to exceed 8 feet in length; water monitors and crocodile monitors; green and rock iguanas; and all members of the order crocodilia — alligators, caimans, crocodiles and their relatives.
Frederickson supports the bill but consulted with Crawford on its wording, which she felt was too broad.
"There are certainly reptiles that are too large to be housed adequately in a home. I think there's probably no reason to sell something that can't be cared for. It's like the average person getting an elephant — it's not good for the elephant or the person."
Alaska temperatures preclude a python infestation like that in the Florida Everglades. And Crawford said he's not aware of any reptiles in Alaska that have caused serious injury or death. But a list of "reptile incidents" on the Animal Protection Institute's Web site at http://www.api4animals.org is a smorgasbord of the many ways these pets can strike, bite or squeeze the hand that feeds them.
Crawford also wasn't aware of any first responders to a fire or other crisis who encountered large reptiles during a rescue, something that is happening more frequently Outside.
He has heard of large reptiles that escaped and caused alarm in Anchorage neighborhoods. And of people moving out of their apartments and leaving snakes for the landlord to deal with.
Crawford hopes to get a full hearing on the amendment during the next legislative session. Owners of large reptiles would be grandfathered in if the bill passes. Educators and researchers would be able to obtain a permit to own them.
Experts say those wanting reptiles should be prepared for work