The Importer: The Chronicles of An Exotic Animal Cowboy

By William Thacker

Recently returned from a remote Piaroa village in the Orinoco basin of Venezuela,  Will Thacker and the British biologist Joann McVay find unexpected adventure in Gainesville, Florida, during the cultural upheaval of the 1970s.

For the first time, the enchanting Joann is visiting Will in his world, where he operates his Living Reptiles import company. The pair explores some of the region's most out-of-the-way locations and falls more deeply in love with each passing day. They discover that even this close to home dangers are lurking in the most unexpected places.

An unforeseen phone call from England and a stunning telegram from Venezuela set the couple on a path to adventure once again.

Don't miss any of William Thacker's adventures in The Chronicles of An Exotic Animal Cowboy: OTTERS ON A PLANE  • INTO THE ORINOCO BASIN • THE IMPORTER • THE FLIGHT OF N9701J • RETURN TO THE ORINOCO • AN UNTAMED LAND

• Language: English
• Publisher: William Thacker
• Release date: Jul 22, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223007463

William Thacker

Ever since four-year-old William Thacker got to hold a black rat snake, he has been fascinated by animals. As a child, he kept a menagerie in his family’s back yard in Florida, then moved his collection to Clermont’s Citrus Tower where, at the age of fifteen, he was giving guided tours and “milking” rattlesnakes for the public at The Wildlife Arena. Throughout his life, William has involved himself in traveling, collecting, and teaching about wildlife. He has been a youth camp nature director, a teacher, and a television host. He has operated an import company, an exotic animal shop, and has worked as a zoo educator. In 2019 William returned to Florida and began writing Thacker Tales. He now resides in the Black Hammock Wilderness Area where he continues to pen the stories of his incredible life with animals.

Book preview

The Importer

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William Thacker

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from

The Chronicles of An Exotic Animal Cowboy

The author owes a huge debt of gratitude to Joanne Lawlor, Valerie Proctor, and Steve Duncan for their help and inspiration in the preparation and publication of this book:

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This book is a work of creative nonfiction. Some of the names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, actual business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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Copyright © 2022 by William Thacker

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in an information retrieval system in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, taping, and recording without prior written permission from the author.

Table of Contents

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Together

The Urban Campfire

Back in the USA

Homeward Bound

Hogtown

Sunburn

The Museum

The Escape

The Golden Cobra

Hoppin’ Gator

Hashknife

Vandy

The Mythical Beast

The Departure

All We Are Saying

Hook Shy

The Telegram

Dedication

About the Author

Together

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April 15th, 1970

Caracas, Venezuela

She’s gone? My Joann is gone? I was somewhere between shock and meltdown.

Yes. She’s gone to a private room, replied the doctor. She’s asking for her cowboy.

A warm wave of relief and gratitude coursed through me.

Let me take you to her, he said.

Please, but first, let me tell my friend the good news, I replied.

Tom was, of course, overjoyed. He assured me that he would make a quick return run to the village to retrieve all our gear and the animals we had collected. He would bring Wono up to date on Joann’s health and tell him not to worry. I asked Tom to relay a message to Wono: someday, somehow, Joann and I would see him again. Tom and I planned to meet up in the hospital cafeteria at 3 p.m.

As we walked down the hall, the doctor said, Once again, I’m truly sorry for your loss.  He told me they had given her a blood transfusion – type B+. We even shared a blood type.

She was sitting up in bed looking just like a little girl, sipping orange juice through a flexible straw. She was wearing a hospital gown with teddy bears on it. A nurse in a starched uniform and white hat stood beside her bed. She wore a silver cross around her neck. She smiled, turned, and left us, her crepe soles squeaking on the linoleum floor.

I took Joann’s hand in mine, let down the rail, and leaned in. I kissed her on the forehead.

You missed, Cowboy. She pointed to her now rosy lips. This time I got it right.

We can try again, Joann, I said.

Not just now, William, if you don’t mind, she replied.

Marry me, McVay. Let me treat you like a queen.

So, you want to make an honest woman out of me?  She tousled my hair and laughed weakly. We are married, in the eyes of God.

I lovest thee, my darling!

And I thee, my Exotic Animal Cowboy.

Move over then. I need to lie down.

Tom wasn’t hard to spot. I fixed a tray and joined him at his corner table. He told me he had arranged for hangar space at the Caracas airport and had gotten us adjoining rooms at the Hotel Simón Bolívar.

We agreed to meet in our hotel room after his return. I would spend the night on the couch in Joann’s room.

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The Urban Campfire

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April 16th, 1970

Venezuela

At exactly 1 p.m., Joann and I left the hospital and caught a taxi to the hotel.

Tom came to our room around five. He embraced Joann and conveyed good wishes from Wono to the both of us.

We enjoyed a good meal in the hotel’s dining room, as we talked about our recent adventures in the Orinoco River Basin. It was as though we were sitting around a campfire along a trail that had taken a few unexpected turns but had led us here to this place in time. Tom asked if I was enjoying my crocodile tail. I laughed and returned to my porterhouse. Tomorrow we would return to the States.

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Back in the USA

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April 17th, 1970

Friday

Miami, Florida

The de Havilland Beaver touched down at Miami International Airport at 4:37 p.m. We taxied to the private aircraft customs ramp and were received by the line crew. They directed us to a parking spot near a dingy white and yellow building. 

We were escorted inside by a uniformed agent of United States Customs.  Through a wide window, we saw a