A Better Class of Serpent

Community Comments

Step into Bill Dillingham’s snake and reptile shop and you will be greeted by three massive albino Burmese pythons. A round bulge three-quarters down the largest snake’s body is a rabbit that “Squeezer” just had for lunch. Continue on and you’re likely to see employees and customers petting arm-length monitor lizards. “They’re just like cats,” explains a worker.

The two-level, 3,500-sq.-ft. shop is clearly operated by aficionados. Many on staff are high school students working after-school jobs; all have a passion for snakes. Despite a steady flow of sales and a loyal customer base, however, becoming a small-business owner wasn’t originally part of the plan for Dillingham.

Before moving to Lodi from Arizona, where he taught junior high science, Dillingham would spend long hours in the surrounding wilderness looking for snakes and reptiles to showcase at his school. “When you learn their habits, it becomes easy to find them,” he says. The collection grew into wall-to-wall terrariums in his classroom. “It made a nice environment to learn in,” Dillingham says. (In Arizona, a hunting permit is required to collect wild reptiles, and in California, a fishing permit is needed. A separate permit is needed to breed and sell select species.)

Upon settling in the Lodi area to take a better-paying teaching position, Dillingham encountered the year-round school system. That meant taking every fourth month off rather than the traditional block of three summer months. It also meant the beloved terrariums in his new classroom were vulnerable to other classes that moved in when he was gone. After seeing them get trashed, Dillingham knew he needed a separate location. When his wife ruled out the basement as an option, in 1989 the Great Valley Serpentarium was born.

Half shop, half class field trip destination, the business is a way for teacher Dillingham, 63, and now semi- retired, to share his passion for reptiles as well as breed exotic varieties for sale on the internet.

SLITHERY PROFITS

To the side of the main area are smaller rooms. One holds breeder snakes, tucked away on sawdust in Tupperware containers. Another houses the eggs and babies. Dillingham is proud to show off exotic species that he has raised for their particular patterns. The back room, or “death row,” is filled with similar plastic boxes of rodents such as small pinkie mice and rats, as well as rabbits. 

In Dillingham’s opinion, his primary competition is the East Bay Vivarium in Berkeley, one of the largest reptile stores in the country. He also competes with smaller specialty shops sprinkled throughout the region. That isn’t his main concern, however. “As a specialty shop it’s easy to build up expenses,” he says. “Employees are the biggest expense. It’s a general cost of doing business. There’s payroll, you’ve got the government to deal with, and taxes.” As for the building, on the industrial outskirts of town, Dillingham bought it as an investment.

His biggest challenge overall has probably been learning to turn his hobby into a business. Dillingham says that his net revenue of $125,000 per year goes almost entirely back into the shop. “It’s just kind of a hobby,” he admits. “I want to keep it on a smaller scale and not so involved. It’s easier to manage, keep simple and reduce paperwork.”

• Share
  • Digg This
  • del.icio.us
  • Newsvine
  • Facebook
  • Reddit
  • Furl It
  • !Y My Web
  • Google
• Email
• Print

Recommend This

Community Comments