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I'm going to have to say I must've been genetically predisposed to reptiles; I certainly had no one to foster a liking for them with a single mother raising me most of my childhood.
My first encounter with one was when we moved to the country and my step-father killed an unknown type of snake when I was 12. He tried to chop the head off of this little creature that couldn't even have been a foot long. I felt bad that he did such a bad job & the snake was still moving, so I picked it up by the tail and carried it around hoping it would die soon and not suffer. I had also heard that a snake wouldn't technically 'die' until the sun went down and I wanted to see if it were true. I don't remember when it actually died, but I buried it. I have been fascinated ever since and got my first boa when I was 17...and out of the house where they were not allowed! I've had at least one snake (boas or balls) almost consistently ever since--some 30+ years now.
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