The Lost Snake 

D. E. Larsen, DVM

Bob Lester joined my practice in Sweet Home in the late 1980s. It was good timing because I had trouble keeping up with the workload.

I had found that solo practice was somewhat self-limiting. Clients would feel slighted when the workload was too much, and a few would go elsewhere for their services. It was the sad part of doing things by yourself. I thought it was better than limiting the practice by not accepting new clients, especially when we were the only show in town.

We went from a hectic one-man practice to a slow two-man practice. Bob was more into marketing than I was, mainly because I never had to worry about it. At least with the two of us, we were afforded a little time away from the practice.

On a Thursday morning, Dennis placed a cardboard box on the front counter. Ruth had learned that cardboard boxes could mean almost anything, and most of those things were not good.

“What’s in the box?” Ruth asked.

“My boa constrictor,” Dennis replied. “Don’t worry, he’s dead. I was wanting one of the docs to do an autopsy and tell me why he died.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Ruth said. “Just a moment, and I will get Dr. Lester.”

Bob was just finishing up in the treatment area when Ruth found him.

“Dennis is out front with a boa constrictor,” Ruth said.

“Oh, great!” Bob said. “That’s just what I want to do this morning: look at a big snake.”

“It’s dead,” Ruth said. “He just wants to find out why it died.”

“That’s better. I’ll be out and talk with him in a moment,” Bob said.

“Dennis, Ruth tells me you have a dead snake in that box,” Bob said. “When did it die?”

“He was dead in his cage this morning,” Dennis said. “I had no idea that he had a problem. That’s why I would like to find out why he died.”

“The best way to do that would be for you to take him over to the diagnostic lab at the vet school in Corvallis,” Bob said.

“I’ve got a full schedule today,” Dennis said. “There is no way that I can get him to Corvallis.”

“We don’t have a courier service here, but if we hurry, we can get him on the bus to Corvallis,” Bob said. “That works pretty well most of the time. Once the box gets to the bus station in Corvallis, the lab sends someone down to pick it up. They should have results in a few days.”

“How much is this going to cost me?” Dennis asked.

“That depends on how much you want them to do,” Bob said. “If you want them to do a gross necropsy where they open him up and look through his systems, it won’t be too much. Sometimes that is all they need to do for a diagnosis. If you want them to do cultures and microscopic exams of the tissues, then it can be a little expensive. But you get a more accurate diagnosis.”

“I don’t need a bunch of lab work,” Dennis said. “Let’s just do the gross thing.”

“Good, let me take the box, and we will get him packaged up and on the bus,” Bod said. “I will give you a call when we get results.”

Bob took the snake in the box and glanced over it just to make sure there was no external injury that would account for the death. Then, after finding no external damage, he packaged it for shipment and placed several ice packs in the box to keep it cool in the summer heat.

Ruth ran the box to the bus depot, and the snake was out of our hair. Now we just needed to wait for a call from the diagnostic lab for the results.

***

The following week, Dennis stopped by the clinic to check on the results from the diagnostic lab.

Sandy pulled his file and found the request that Bob had filled out but no report from the lab.

“I don’t find any result,” Sandy said. “Just a minute, and I will see if Dr. Lester has had a call from the lab.”

Bob and Ruth were working on a cat in the treatment area. 

“Dennis is out front wondering about the necropsy results on his snake,” Sandy said.

“I haven’t heard a word,” Bob said. “I guess I sort of forgot about it. Why don’t you call the lab? They should have had results by now.”

Sandy called the lab, and they had not received any shipment from our clinic.

“What does that mean?” Dennis asked.

“I guess that means the snake is lost somewhere,” Sandy said. “We will try to track it down, but it will probably be too late for the lab to give you any information if we find it.”

The bus depot had information that they had shipped the box, but Corvallis depot had no record of receiving it. The snake had just disappeared.

***

It was several weeks later when Ruth took a phone call. She had Bod take the call.

“I think they have found the snake,” Ruth said. “The guy on the phone doesn’t sound too happy. I think you should talk with him.”

“Good morning, this is Dr. Lester. How can I help you?” Bob asked the guy on the phone.

“Yes, this is the depot manager for Greyhound in Yreka, California,” the guy said sternly. “I just pulled this box from one of our bus’s cargo compartments. It was stuck in a back corner. It is the most God-awful-smelling box I have ever handled. It is addressed to Oregon State University and has your return address. What the hell did you send them, and what should I do with it now?”

“Ah, we wondered what happened to that box,” Bob said. “Whatever you do, don’t open it. Just throw it away. It has no use at this point in time.”

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