Spider

With the coming of Halloween, it feels appropriate that we recently had a spider encounter.

While I sat on the deck, minding my own business after dinner, I heard some strange noises coming from Cam's house.  Belinda, a friend of his, asked if either Hugo or I would be willing to get rid of a spider.  We piped up, "sure".

I went in with the vision of putting a piece of tupperware over it to trap the multi-legged creature, then slipping a piece of paper or cardboard under to take it outside, for this is my usual plan of action.  It turned out to be a Huntsman.   About 5 inches/ 12.5 centimeters wide.  Hairy.  Huge eyes.  Quick.

Hmmmmm.  I grabbed a piece of tupperware.  Even though it was the biggest in Cam's kitchen, it wasn't near big enough.  As I tried to capture it, the spider easily manoeuvred around and went in a corner.

I was getting polite requests to kill it.  Cam firmly said that if I miss the spider and it goes into the cabinet..."it's gone and I won't be able to sleep inside the house."  Now, Cam is a very rational person and any person in their right mind WOULD be nervous to sleep after seeing this large, hairy arthropod.  Visions of the thing crawling onto your face as you snore, tickling your nose.  It's a bit freaky.

So, with tupperware in hand, as I looked at Cam's face, I thought, "okay, I'll help him."  But, then I looked at the Huntsman, and it felt like I was looking at a tiny kitten or something.  Most of you know that my common custom is to trap living things and-- gingerly--- take them outside.  If it would be strange for me to kill a small spider in Denver, imagine what it would be like to see such a large creature.  What was I supposed to do...step on it and hear all of it's huge legs break and it's big body collapse from the pressure?!  I took a breath and said, "I can't kill it.  Sorry."  I could see the faces of disappointment, surprise...or something like: you soft American!

Feeling pumped up and not wanting to find the spider in the middle of the night, sleeping soundly next to him, Cam--who loathes spiders-- grabbed one of those flat mops with the hard head and bashed it.  Of course it didn't die at first.  Instead, it tried desperately to crawl away with a mangled leg.  I had the tupperware covering an opening by the dishwasher so that it couldn't get in there.  When the spider momentarily escaped Cam's wrath, I surprised myself with a yelp, covered the crevice between appliance and cabinet and then BAM!  Cam hit it again and continued to swivel the mop so as to really crush the helpless creature.

When he removed the mop, it was a sad sight.  I took a paper towel and solemnly scraped what was left of it.  After respectfully tossing the remains, Belinda asked softly, "what about the babies?"  Cam slowly shook his head and gave her a look of disapproval.  He put back the mop and walked out of the kitchen.

(I am sure that Hugo and I will find one of the babies soon....)

Here is what a Huntsman looks like: