I’m not a spider fan. I respect them for what they do for a living, i.e. keep the bug population down by eating them. (I could never do that. The world would be quickly overrun with bugs if it was my job to eat them.) But I don’t like them. I don’t squish 'em if I find them outside. But if they’re in my space it’s a different story. Smoosh city. And if it’s one of the really fast moving kind with the dark legs, the smoosh is usually immediately preceded by a loud “EEEEK!!”
About two weeks ago I found a pair of house spiders catching bugs behind the soap dispenser in the bathroom. There’s a nightlight there; it attracts anything buzzing around the house after everyone goes to bed. These two were making out like bandits. I couldn’t help but admire their ability to recognize prime real estate.
I left them unsquished for a week. Then, when I couldn’t put off cleaning the sink any longer, I scooped them up in a bathroom cup and set them outside near the porch light. I figured two resourceful arachnids such as themselves could find profitable new locations. Haven’t heard from them since.
That’s the closest I’ve ever come to making a spider a pet. I kind of miss them. But if either of them had set a foot outside of that cup, it would have been goodbye Charlotte.