I do not like spiders. Even the baby ones. Or the supposedly non-threatening wispy ones. Or the ones people say are great to have around because they eat other creepy crawlies (or is that all spiders? I guess it is.)
I've been working at home the past two days, and for the past two days I've been tormented by this creepy mid-size (you know, like a car) black, squat spider. I have to work in our bedroom because it's the only room with an internet connection, and since said creepy spider won't leave our bedroom, I'm trapped. Trapped and tormented, that I am.
Yesterday Zoe spotted the spider. She is the more, well, cat-like of our two cats, so she was stalking the spider as it traveled from one side of the room to the other, where it mysteriously disappeared. So did Zoe. Nice attack kitty she is.
This morning Zoe started up again, right in the exact same spot the spider appeared yesterday - next to my side of the bed. I have to sleep next to the wall or I just feel like I have no room and I have so many sleep issues, I'd probably fall off all the time if I slept on the open side.
She watched the spider, the spider crawled around, she prowled, the spider scattered, and then I suppose the spider fell down the wall (not a very spider-like spider, if you ask me), and soon Zoe was down in the space between the bed and the wall, rustling around and eating the spider. She loves a good, meaty spider.
Or so I thought she was eating it.
Later on during the day our other cat, Sophia, who is so unlike a cat except for her kooky cat attitude, started crawling all over me and trying to get to the headboard. If she gets me alone, she's stuck to me like glue, so I assumed she was trying to get to the headboard so she could sit behind me and stare at the back of my head (yes, she really does this). I didn't really want her to do that because after staring for a bit, she then starts knocking things down to get my attention, so I moved her back to the middle of the bed. She was really adamant about getting to the headboard, so I thought, uh oh. Spider.
I turned and looked, and low and behold, there he was.
She spent some time staring at him, tilting her head this way and that. (Notice my clever switch from proper noun, spider, to gender specific pronoun, he, him? Yeah, I got sick of writing 'spider,' and all spiders are pretty much male to me unless it's a black widow. Like how people call boats and sport cars "she.")
Do I need to state she never did anything? Another nice attack kitty I have.
The spider ended up falling or crawling down the wall to the side of the bed again. That was when Sophia lost interest in him.
Fast forward another hour, and I was sitting at my husband's computer, talking on the phone with my co-worker when I noticed something moving to the right of me. I had already spent the past hour thinking something was moving to my right as I sat on the bed, so I was hoping whatever I was seeing wasn't really what I thought it was.
My co-worker got a nice earful of me flipping out about it and how he's tormenting me, and when she suggested just womaning up and killing it, I gave her every reason why I could not possibly do this. No matter how many paper towels I have, I can't bring myself to squish spiders. I can't suck him up in the vacuum, like I could in the olden days, because my vacuum is a canister vacuum, not one with a bag, so he'll just sit in the canister, waiting for me to forget all about him, and when I dump the canister contents, he'll jump out and bite my eye. I can't knock him down off the wall because who the heck knows where he'll end up, and I'd rather know where he is than not know. I did think about grabbing Zoe, who was in Mateo's room sleeping on one of his blankets, and forcing her to kill him, but I was more in the mood to complain about the spider than really do anything about him.
What really kills me about this whole spider business is that I came up with a fabulous spider-killing machine for those who hate spiders and can't be near them without flaying their arms around and emitting high-pitched screams of fear. When I approached my Dad about this idea of mine (because I would need his help in making the prototype - while I'm handy, I'm not that handy), he laughed at me and said no.
I tell you, I have something here.
Tomorrow I'm going into the office and getting a reprieve from my 8-legged pal. I'm hoping the cats devise a sting and take care of him for me.