Story time!

2 years ago, while herping on a disputably unprotected part of the local forest, my mother "ran over" *not quite* a small male garter snake. We had been looking for snakes that day, and this one had run right out for us. So, as my first wild snake capture (My actual first snake, a rough green, had been killed by a cat in my old treehouse), I decided to keep him. I set him up in a tank in the house. A few days later, he was gone. I was somewhat sad. After 3 days, I found him chilling on the cover to my fish tank in my basement. So he was moved outside. Me, being naive at the time, gave him only crickets. The months passed, his captivity with me being from June 17 to January 17, each day passing without him ever having eaten... And on that fateful day, after I finally discovered that he would eat fish, I decided to give him a rinsing. However, I was not aware that I had turned the water on a little too warm... He'd never struck at me before, and I knew for sure something bad had happened. 15 minutes later, he was dead, and I was literally crying my eyes out. I swore in the middle of my sobbing that I would avenge him and literally stated that I would erect an outdoor pen in his honor and breed hundreds of garter snakes. So, two years of experience and knowledge later, here I am, proud to continue his legacy.
RIP
Scooter G. Wheel