My Eight Legged "Friends"

I try hard not to kill spiders. Well, at a minimum I think hard on it. If one comes near Edie, it does not last long. Otherwise, I far too often ask Will to do the murderous work that I am unwilling to. I'm not proud of this. I had a semi successful capture and release yesterday that reminded me of a story I wrote for my long defunct blog a couple years back. Since I was, back then, too shy to publicize the existence of a personal blog but now have an inflated ego and a lack of inhibition that child birth bestows upon its actors, here it is:

Trying to Be a Better Vegan

I stopped eating animal products about 8 months ago now. I'd already stopped eating meat, and the transition wasn't as hard as I thought, eating wise. It's the being vegan in the non-eating ways that's really hard. Especially with creepy crawlies (*shudder*). Last week I was trying to get some work done in my home office, when in my peripheral vision I spotted a monstrous, hairy, and (I'm 90% sure of this one) angry spider. I've never relished killing spiders, but mostly because the whole thing is a haze of adrenaline, involuntary yelps, and fighting back tears as I contemplate cleaning up the carnage. But now, I look at this ferocious eight-legged would-be killer, and I think, "Hey there, my arachnid brother, let's not get confrontational. Let's try to do this Ghandi-style." So I grab an empty glass and a piece of paper, and I get Leggy McHorrible trapped in a dome so that I can scuttle him out the door. I approach the front door quickly, fumbling to unlock it as I hold the high-tech spider containment system in my other hand. As soon as I step onto the porch, my heart begins to race as I realize that there's been a security breach; it is GONE. Oh wait, not gone, IT'S CRAWLING ON MY ARM! I had not anticipated that the spider was engaging in psychological warfare by pretending to cooperate. This naivete will be the death of me. And so fight or flight kicks in, and today, like many days, I choose flight. I fling my arm about, causing the glass to be hurled on to the cement porch, and all the while an unintentional horror movie style shriek flies out of me. So there I stood, panting, surrounding by shattered glass, with my two dogs looking on with dismay and disrespect. On the up side, I do believe that the spider survived. The down side? I'm down a juice glass and up one cunning enemy.

[photo of spider is actual size according to my mind's eye]