The snakehead has found its way to the Sportsman's Paradise, and I'm not laughing.
As reported a few days ago by reporter Tristan Baurick, "An angler spotted a pair of adult snakeheads and a mess of their babies in Old River, an oxbow lake branching off the Mississippi River in Concordia Parish, about 12 miles from Natchez, Miss."
That's not good. I know. I once had one.
The first official government sighting of a snakehead in the United States was in a pond behind a Crofton, Maryland strip mall in 2002. Apparently, an aquarium hobbyist had a couple he bought in New York and brought home. I don't know that hobbyist, where he got them or why his snakeheads ended up in a pond — but I think I know why he parted ways with his snakehead pets.
Two snakehead anglers show off their catch at the Blackwater Wildlife Refuge in Maryland.Â
Before owning an aggressive, exotic animal as a pet, I had goldfish, guppies and mollies. Then I moved on to tropical and fresh water fish, including oscars and angel fish. I was so into fish that I bred them. I bred marine water seahorses. I bred convict and firemouth cichilds.
I kept at least five aquariums at home and another — with pirahnas — on my desk in the Philadelphia Inquirer newsroom. At the time, it seemed fitting for a newshound aquarium hobbyist.
As a hobbyist, I regularly visited fish and pet stores. One day I saw a snakehead, learned about them and decided to bring one-inch Sammy the Snakehead home to live with me in my southern New Jersey apartment. I thought he was a cool, fascinating fish. I liked the challenge of taking care of an aggressive pet.
It was 1980, long before the government knew what was going on.
Little did I know that my relationship with Sammy would sour.
Sammy turned nasty as he grew. My other fish would swim over to greet me when I came home. Not Sammy. He would snap, swim to the bottom of the tank and rush to the top. All he wanted was attention, and he didn't like sharing my time with the other fish.
It got to the point that if I put my hand in the water to move something he'd try to bite me. And, boy, did he eat.
Think of him as a slop hog or a goat, chomping down on anything in front of him. He DEMANDED that I feed him more. It got to the point that he was costing me $30, $40 and even $50 a month just to feed. He grew to measure more than two feet in length. Something had to give.
I heard snakeheads were good eating, but I couldn't bring myself to eat a pet, not even a cantankerous, mean-spirited one that was also a vicious predator. I sold him back to the pet store where I got him.
Louisiana Wildlife and Fisheries is asking us not to do catch-and-release with these fish. They want people who inadvertently catch a snakehead to kill it, snap a pic, double bag it, freeze it and contact the agency.
I don't want another Sammy. And I don't want snakeheads in Louisiana.
