High On The Scales -- The Reptile Man's Lizards And Snakes Help Spread An Ecological Message

Part way through The Reptile Man's presentation at school assemblies, he holds the microphone next to his Eastern Diamondback rattlesnake and then next to his Gaboon viper.

What a thrill!

No, not the sound of the shaking rattles, which make the little hairs on the back of your neck sway to the rhythm of 50 shakes a minute.

No, not the viper's deep, deep breathing that sounds like one of those calls you get at 3 a.m.

It's the preceding silence. Glory, glory, glory. It's the only silence for 50 minutes as Scott Petersen, The Reptile Man, parades incredible creatures around the room, some within arm's reach.

"OOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!"

"AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH!"

Between the viper's deep breathing and the children's smorgasbord of screams, Petersen's pep rallies for reptiles could serve as the soundtrack to a Grade B horror movie.

It's enough to make you envy the snakes, who have no ear holes.

A sure-fire hit

The Reptile Man is booked solid months in advance from border to border in Washington state. Petersen, a former biology teacher who has a degree in zoology (he devenomizes his own snakes), could be a complete dud and still be a sure-fire hit.

Oh, he makes his contributions. He preaches the gospel about saving habitat. He drops in amazing facts like the one about how his desert tortoise has enough strength in its little flippers to push a couch across Petersen's living-room floor, or how a 15-foot King

cobra can kiss an elephant goodbye.

But it's impossible to upstage an 80-pound alligator snapping turtle, especially to a roomful of kids.

"Now we're going to look at a turtle who is not so friendly," he told a group of kids recently at Bellevue's Sunset Elementary School.

"OOOOOHHHHHHHHHHH!"

"I like that turtle!"

Snap!

Petersen looks as though he's carrying an accordion as he walks around the room lugging his 80-pound snapping turtle. Somehow, he can get his fingers free long enough to tickle his turtle under the chin. Freddie opens his mouth to show the kids his red tongue, a worm-shaped fishing lure.

Snap!

"Guys, I want to say something kind of serious now," said Petersen, who tells the kids that it's OK to buy leather that comes from a domestic animal such as a cow but not to buy anything with scales because that likely is from a wild creature.

"We need to be careful and listen to what the scientists say and not just to people who want to make money."

Spike the iguana appears to disagree. Spike has no voice, so he communicates by waving the little flag of skin under his chin. He shakes it vigorously in the wild when trying to chase off competitors or lure a potential mate.

Spike is so docile that after his parade around the Bellevue gym he sits on top of the crates and watches Petersen, sometimes appearing to agree with him, sometimes to disagree.

Away from the bright lights, Petersen keeps his reptiles at his home in Snohomish County in two "escape-proof" rooms with locked cages.

Hobby becomes vocation

Reptiles were a lifelong hobby that became Petersen's vocation when he quit his teaching job. For a couple of lean months, he eyeballed with envy the frozen laboratory rats he feeds his crew, but success has put better food on his table steadily since then.

"I'm going to do this until the day I die," he said. "It's my dream come true."

How the reptiles eat, it turns out, is a real barometer of how they are doing. If they are stressed from travel or shows, they don't eat. If they're too cold, they don't digest. All of his reptiles have healthy appetites, according to Petersen.

"Some of them I've been using for years and they're still thriving," said The Reptile Man, who was very excited last week to have acquired his own live cockroach breeding farm (and who wouldn't be!).

Going for outings is not the same thrill for reptiles as it would be for a dog, but the outings are good for the species, said Petersen.

Some of these reptiles had ancestors who watched the dinosaurs come and go. Now here they are, stars on the grade-school circuit, helping to make a pitch to stop extinction.

"Snakes are the farmer's best friend."

That's one of the mantras of children who have watched The Reptile Man, parents say. Rats and mice eat crops. Snakes eat rats and mice.

"It almost seems illogical that we should hate and fear them," said Petersen.

SCRREEEAAAMMM!

Sure, there are a few kids and more adults who see the Burmese python or boa constrictor and keep one eye on the exit, but who could fear a snake you've worn around your neck?

"I figured it was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity," said Donna Migneault, who shared custody of an 80-pound albino python with another parent, Judee Wells, as children lined up to pet the snake draped around the two women's necks.

"It helps kids learn not to be afraid," said Wells, who was surprised to feel that the snake's skin was silky and not at all slimy.

Migneault, who is taking her 4- and 6-year-old children to the Malaysian rain forest this spring, was pleased with The Reptile Man's environmental message.

"That message filters up from the children to the parents," she said.

At home, Petersen plays his guitar and his American alligator sings along. He drives to the airport once a week to pick up frozen lab rats, which come in Costco-sized packages of 100 (at $3 a rat).

He discourages people from getting large reptiles as pets but encourages anyone buying to get only domestic-born creatures (never a venomous snake, however).

Though he is still a young fellow, his tortoises and turtles and even his 5-year-old alligator likely will outlive him. They could even live to see 2095.

"It's a commitment," he said, sighing. "It's kind of like getting married." ----------------------------------------------------------------- Where to call You can reach "The Reptile Man's Fascinating World of Reptiles" by calling Scott Petersen at 712-9156.