'Snakeman' introduces youngsters to wonders of reptiles A slithery summer

'The Snakeman' introduces junior naturalists to the wonders of reptiles

Raphael Hananel, 7, is mesmerized by a grey-banded kingsnake named "Brandy" at the Bellaire Nature Discovery Center. Raphael Hananel, 7, is mesmerized by a grey-banded kingsnake named "Brandy" at the Bellaire Nature Discovery Center. Photo: Michael Paulsen, Chronicle Photo: Michael Paulsen, Chronicle Image 1 of / 5 Caption Close 'Snakeman' introduces youngsters to wonders of reptiles 1 / 5 Back to Gallery

After a morning spent rubbing shoulders with snakes, feeding worms to a bearded dragon and learning the difference between reptiles that bite and those that just poop, Clint "The Snakeman" Pustejovsky's junior naturalists were ready for big game.

Slathered with bug repellent, names stickered to their backs, the troop of 13 boys and one girl — ages 7 to 10 — fearlessly pushed into the wilderness of Bellaire's Ginzbarg Nature Discovery Center for a pre-lunch nature walk. Logs were rolled, rocks lifted. Then, the breathless cry, tinctured with disgust: "Cockroaches!"

For Pustejovsky, leader of the center's Summer Snake Camp, dealing with nature at its rawest — roach clusters included — is all in a day's work.

At 51, Pustejovsky, a technical writer-turned-snake expert, is as at ease with the serpents as he is with guests in the parlor of his Spring Branch home. For the record, those "guests" currently include an oversized Australian lizard with a lousy attitude.

"I don't think this is something I developed," he said of his affection for reptiles. "I'm starting to wonder: Was I born with it?"

Pustejovsky encountered his first snake, a harmless hognose, at age 4 or 5 while on an outing with his father at Binglewood Park. "I was blown away," he recalled. On trips to the library, the future snakeman and his dad would delve into field guides and revel in a world both strange and natural.

"At age 5, I was all about animals," Pustejovsky said. "My favorite animal was the Texas horned lizard - the horny toad. When I was 3 years old, I was catching these lizards. Obviously, I wasn't scared. I had no clue they spit blood."

As Pustejovsky aged, he turned to seemingly more adult concerns. He studied communications at the University of Houston. He and his wife, Michelle, reared a son and daughter. But his love of snakes never wore off.

"About 12 years ago," Pustejovsky said, "my lovely wife said, 'Clint, you have to do something with your knowledge. Instead of technical writing, let's use it to start a business.' "

Now, transformed into "Clint the Snakeman," Pustejovsky, who often turns up attired in snake-themed shirts, presents hundreds of educational programs for schools, libraries and private businesses each year. In addition, he and his scaly sidekicks annually officiate at about 350 birthday parties.

No middle ground here

Much of Pustejovsky's mission, he said, is to dispel rumor and myth. Of 110 snake species and subspecies in Texas, only 15 are venomous, broadly falling into the categories of rattlesnakes, copperheads, cottonmouths and coral snakes.

"With snakes, few people come down in the middle," he said. "You either love them or you hate them." Even snake-haters can be curious, however.

"Snakes draw people," Pustejovsky said. "They're like a magnet pulling steel. People pull themselves back, but they're still curious."

At last week's snake camp, a legion of mothers gave a wide berth to the caged reptiles as their kids went bonkers. Michaela Lawrence, 10, a regular at the camp for the past several years, was near-speechless with snake love.

"They're cool," she said, confessing special fondness for corn snakes, the coloration of whose bellies resembles Indian corn.

Michaela was among the youngsters who watched a corn snake named Patches scale the trunk of a tree.

The girl, who hopes to become a veterinarian, also was among kids who marveled at snake agility as Pumpkin, an orange-hued milk snake, and Brandy, a gray-banded king snake, writhed around their necks.

Under the snakeman's watchful eyes, and those of his teenage son, Charles, and his assistant, University of Houston English major Kristen Canterbury, the kids in tandem hefted and handled a 12-foot, 50-pound lemon yellow-albino python named Hurricane Joe.

Some dos and don'ts

Along with the demonstrations came common-sense advice for handling and caring for snakes: Don't put fingers in a snake's cage, Pustejovsky warned, and if you buy a pet snake, don't just put him in an aquarium with a top on it. Snakes are escape artists. Get a specially designed snake container.

Pustejovsky reserved handling two of the serpents to himself.

One, a desert king snake, was a biter. "He's a snake-eater," the snakeman said, surmising that the snake mistook human fingers for lunch. "He even bites himself."

The other, a checkered garter snake, was a pooper - a wily reptile who repulses would-be attackers by defecating on them.

"If I let you handle him," Pustejovsky warned the kids, "there's an 85 percent chance he'd just poop. It's not the head end of this snake you have to worry about."

allan.turner@chron.com