Hmmm...
When I was about three years old (this is one of my earliest memories) I was playing on the porch, and a grasshopper flew and landed near me.
I was frightened and ran into the house.
My mother came out and explained to me that I could watch the grasshopper, play with him, and he would not hurt me as long as I did not hurt him.
I played a game of stomp and fly with him for awhile.
As I grew older, I always brought in bugs in jars, and would have also brought in frogs, snakes, injured baby birds, and whatever else I could find, but my mother would not tolerate the herps.
I often kept pets like this and hid them from my mother.
As a teenager, I had a private room in the basement, and kept a cricket frog in a terrarium, hoping he would sing for me. He later escaped, and after some months, I found him living in a hole in the floor near the entry to our garage, where he found ample food. I left him there and it was our little secret.
So I don't think I ever had an epiphany... I always wanted snakes and other such critters as pets, and when I moved away and got married, my husband worked for the DNR, so I was free to do what I wanted, with some agreed-upon limits.
