Catching a Croc Lover

Catching a Croc Lover

It isn't easy romancing a crocodile hunter. For one thing it's hard to get his full attention. He's always looking in mouths and counting teeth (and fingers.)

One day, for instance, I brought him a sandwich and a cold brew. I thought he'd appreciate it, but he wanted to know what I'd brought for the croc. Of course, at that time, I could have cared less if that croc ever ate again, but I thought real quick, and I came up with a great excuse.

"Why, Sam, that croc doesn't need me feeding him. He's a wild critter. He needs to feel the water on his back and the fish gliding by. He needs the sound of turtles jumping out of the water and a rat or two paddling around like salmon going up stream. So, I'd be doing him a disservice if I brought him a sandwich like I did you."

"Why bless your sweet hide, Barbie, you do understand," Sam said, and then he pulled me down into the mud and grime and gave me a big, smoochy kiss.

Of course, my white dress got a bit speckled, but it was worth it. I'd made forward strides toward my goal. You see, I've set my heart on that handsome croc-man.

Not long after that when Sam was weaving a snake around his neck because he'd taken a bit of a chill - Sam, not the snake, of course. I sneaked up behind and fed that snake some vitamin drops. You see, Sam just can't stand making snakes open up their mouths. He says he looks into their deep, green eyes, and knowing that they hate to have their mouths pried open, Sam feels so awful about it, he just can't do it.

At that point, I still hated snakes, so I shuddered a whole lot, but there was that goal I was working toward, and I took that snake's head in my hand and squeezed like I was squirting out mustard. That ugly snake popped open like a coin purse. I dropped in the liquid vitamins and retreated before the scaly piece of varmint even got its eyes open enough to glare at me.

Needless to say, Sam was pleased as a black bear with a scratching post. He pulled me close and kissed me good and hard. Unfortunately, that snake -- all eight feet of him was dreadfully in the way.

"Hey, I'm cold too. How about sharing that snake with me," I murmured.

So Sam wrapped that scaly, heavy hose of a snake all around himself and me. The boa, coming alive to find itself in a rather precarious situation of hugging a suddenly much wider tree, wrapped itself tighter and tighter. That was just what I intended. That snake squished the two of us into a body-hugging position that was just fine. Sam did a bit of squirming, and that made it even better. Then his eyes got big, a light came into them, and he grinned one huge crocodile smile down at me.

"Ah," he said, whispering into my ear "I think maybe without the snake, we might enjoy this a little more."

Of course, I allowed my eyes to get big as if that was a startling idea, but I nodded. Sam disconnected the snake and led me into the bedroom.

Things got even better after that until a nasty tarantula came to live with us. She became Sam's favorite pet and went everywhere, riding on his shoulder. Trying to get in the mood for romance became harder and harder for me with those eight eyes of hers glowering down at me. Sometimes Trudy would even rub her leg up and down Sam's neck. He just laughed about it, but I burned. Nothing like competition from a varmint!

I was really sorry when I accidentally knocked Trudy off, right into a pelican's crop. If only the bird hadn't swallowed . . . Of course, I cried, and Sam had to comfort me, which was going just fine until that darn bird regurgitated Trudy. The stupid spider was just fine. Why don't birds have teeth?

After that, there was nothing I could do but grit my teeth and pretend I couldn't see Trudy's constant love overtures to my intended. When Sam sang to her, I acted like it amused me. When Sam kissed Trudy, I tried not to let jealousy green my lips, but when he took the spider and placed her on the table beside him while we ate breakfast, I knew something had to be done.

So I got down on my hands and knees and put my nose up as close as I could to that tarantula, and I tried to touch mind-to-mind. She turned her back to me, rude thing, but I was suddenly blinded by light. The big flashlight in the sky turned on, and I knew what to do. Trudy needed her own lover!

I made a couple of phone calls and came up with Manuel. He arrived in the mail a few days later, hissing a bit and looking anything but tame, but I gave him a couple of days to calm down, all the while feeding him some delicious grasshoppers and reciting love poems so he'd get into the mood.

It obviously worked. I introduced the spiders two days later. One look at him, and Trudy was a goner! She hopped off Sam's shoulder quicker than a fast woman deserts her man.

Sam was a little lonely without his pet. I had to be extra sweet and accommodating. Just to entertain my man and to get his mind off his loss, I let the tail go on a crocodile a couple of times. That challenged Sam to a mighty heave-ho and a carousing good time. Sam was even more in a loving mood afterwards, having proved, once again, what a He-man he was.

When a sick kangaroo was feeling feisty, I let the little Joey get in one good punch at Sam before I corralled it. Then I tenderly -- very tenderly -- administered appropriate CPR to Sam. He was most appreciative. In fact, he said, "I just don't know what I'd do without you."

I smiled and batted my eyes.

Sam got over Trudy's desertion just fine, but as the days passed, much to my dismay, Sam made no further leaps down the road to eternal bliss. He still seemed oblivious to the nature of human relationships.

In a week or so, Manuel and Trudy did what spiders do in their rather rapid and short courtship. Then they moved apart, their dating ritual apparently at an end.

Trudy, unfortunately, took up residence again on Sam's shoulder. Manuel took over mine. Funny how it never bothered me when Manuel rubbed his legs up and down my neck. It was Sam who starting getting jealous.

Over the days that followed, I trained the resident croc to come whenever I whistled. The silly critter was crazy about popcorn. Sam didn't know about the secret treat, and it irritated him to no end when his favorite croc always chose me instead of him.

The situation brought Sam's eyes back to me -- a great deal. In fact, one day the gilla monster almost bit him because Sam was paying too much attention to my new lowcut-blouse.

But honestly, it didn't seem to matter what I wore anymore. Sam had taken to staring at me with a slightly dazed look in his eyes even when I wore nothing fancier than short shorts and a slightly wet t-shirt. I ignored his stares. I was too busy with all the animals to stop and bat my eyes anymore.

Perhaps, life would have continued coasting along, except Martha, the boa, decided to have babies. Guess who became nursemaid for fifteen brand new reptilian babies! In between taking care of the little ones, feeding the croc, and giving Manuel his daily hand feeding, Sam apparently finally figured the whole "love" thing out.

The next morning at breakfast when Trudy began wagging one of her eight skinny legs at me, I started to look away, but there was something shiny on the leg she was wagging. I bent closer to take a look.

"Will you marry me?" Sam asked.

I slipped the ring off Trudy's leg, and Sam slid it onto my finger. Then I disentangled Mother Martha from my neck, set Manuel on the ground, and, despite Trudy's leg stroking my cheek, I kissed Sam.

Sam and I are getting married next Saturday. The preacher's agreed to let the croc be best man, and, of course, Trudy will be my bride's maid. Then afterward, Sam and I plan to honeymoon in Africa, where we're going to search for a thirty-foot spotted rock python.

It isn't easy romancing a wildlife expert, but believe me, it's not only worth it, but a croc and half of fun!

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