Boas, Cannibalism.

I was wondering about whales and their vestigial limbs, which led me to read about snakes and their vestigial limbs, and thus to discover the following gruesome fact (The Larousse Encyclopedia of Animal Life, p. 319):

The Boa Constrictor is easily reared in captivity and can be fed on rabbits, rats and pigeons. Cannibalism has been reported on a number of occasions: for instance, if two boas are in a cage together one of them will stifle the prey, but sometimes both will seize it, one at each end. In swallowing the prey they move toward each other, since their recurved teeth do not allow them to let go of the prey easily. When the two snouts touch, the larger snake is bound to swallow the other.

When do you suppose the confusion sets in? And the panic? Surely confusion and panic are reptilian enough as emotions, and the boa is a clever enough as a creature, that a boa can be confused, can begin to panic.

I mean … imagine you are the snake. Living in a heated glass cage, roaming a beloved log and a beloved rock, curling around a beloved mate. You’ve been there for years, your life is constricted, but still, it’s an idyll. And sometimes, in the late afternoon, you pick up the scent of a pigeon.

The pleasure of getting your lips around the tail of a delicious pigeon!

It’s a quick hunt, you’re just beginning to relish the dry, rich scent of bird in your wide-stretched lips, when you realize that something is wrong. Your eyes are weak, you can’t quite see—and it’s only when you’ve swallowed the pigeon’s rump that your mate comes clearly into view. Dread and disorientation! Staring back at you, down the length of the pigeon’s smooth and feathersome back, are your mate’s eyes, dim with the snaky pleasure of feeding. You want to let go, you want to regurgitate—but damn those recurved teeth! You swallow the pigeon’s feet (those alien things, feet). Your mouth can stretch no wider—it barely can manage the downy belly—your lips ache—. Until you feel your mate’s gums press into your nose. Your lover forces your mouth shut with his mouth.

What do you suppose your cause of death is? Do you die when your heart and brain are compromised by the merciless acids in your mate’s stomach? Or do you suffocate, squeezed into unconsciousness by your mate’s narrow throat? For how long before you die do you continue to savor your last meal, your freshly dead pigeon?

Or, imagine that you are the larger snake. Imagine, over the course of a day, swallowing your lover. The loneliness of seeing her tail finally vanish into your lips when you done. Or, imagine that you are the owner of a pet store, watching hundreds of dollars of inventory devour each other alive. Or, imagine that you are the living pigeon, and that it’s late in the afternoon when you are placed, by warm, human hands (those alien things, hands!) into a cage that smells, doubly, of snake.