Something Spider Something Me.
I was going to come up with a catchy original title, but basically it says all you need to know -something about me and spiders. If you remember the original “Dances with Spiders” tale from a few years ago, then you’ll remember that I am deathly afraid of spiders. If you don’t remember the original tale, then all you need to know is this: I am deathly afraid of spiders.
The other night I was coming in from the truck, left hand laden with groceries, cell phone, and keys, when I felt something brush up against my head as I went into the garage. Thinking it was just a moth (and at the same time thinking it was strange for a moth to be out in this cold), I just waved my free hand nonchalantly and went on. As I opened the door to go into the house, I felt a tickling on my neck. I brushed it with my free hand and knocked off a spider that looked the size of a doorknob. It bounced off the door and back into the garage. Immediately I found that I had both hands free and was doing a crazy dance into the house. My wife looked up from the couch to see me in paroxysms of what is known in the scientific community as the screaming heebie-jeebies. When she asked what was wrong, all I could say was, “Spider! Spider! Spider!”
Now, my wife is a caring, sensitive soul with a heart as big as all outdoors. She always has a kind word to say and is very supportive of everyone and will listen to all of the problems of your soul and offer gentle advice. So it was no surprise to me that in my moment of crisis, as I danced that fitful dance, she said these comforting words: “Sissy. It’s just a spider.”
This was enough to get me to stop the major part of the fit. I was still swatting my neck and clawing at the air in little spasms from time to time, but I had calmed down. I just knew that the rest of the night I was going to feel that spider on me.
Once I had calmed down and collected my phone, keys, and groceries from the kitchen floor, I went outside to meet the abomination face to face again - this time on my terms. I looked at the spider lying there all curled up on its back. I felt a brief pang of remorse for harming one nature’s creatures. It was after all, just a harmless garden spider, an orb weaver that spends its life spinning webs and catching pesky insects. But it was a spider.
Most people would have squashed it then and there and be done with it. But not me, noooo. What I did next was perhaps the bravest thing I’ve ever done in my life - I poked it with a stick. It moved. I quivered. In a flash of inspiration, I decided to get a picture of the beast for posterity. I backed into the kitchen to get my phone and grabbed a quarter off the counter for size reference and went back to the garage. The spider was still lying on its back. So I put the quarter down and bravely slid it over with my work boot clad foot and poked it to get it to spread its legs to show off its leg span. It didn’t like that and it rolled over and crawled away. I noticed that it was pretty sluggish - maybe because it was injured, maybe because it was cold out. This boosted my confidence that I could easily run away should it head my way. So I slid the quarter next to it to try to get a picture and poked it with the stick again. It moved away. I slid the quarter again. Poked it again. This time it moved toward me. I took a quick step back and it leaped at me. It LEAPED at me! It jumped a foot across the floor and half a foot up. I jumped back in terror. It jumped again! I jumped to the left and it jumped to the left. I jumped to the right and it jumped to the right. It knew my every move. I jumped back again but got caught by the garage step. This time, though, the spider stopped in mid air. Unencumbered by any logic at the moment the thought that ran through my head was…
Oh. My. God.
Ninja Spider.
As I stood there watching it hang in mid air with its eight legs clawing in my general direction, I looked hard and realized that it was hanging by a strand of its web from the stick that I had in my hand and trying to crawl back up the strand. Picture the old cat with a tin can tied to its tail trick and that’s what I had just been through. Every time I had jumped, I pulled the stick with me and, in turn, the spider. No wonder it had such good reflexes. If I had not had a moment of clarity and assessed the situation, I could still be in the garage being chased by ninja spider. Both the stick and the spider were dropped immediately. Luckily it landed on the quarter and I was able to get a picture as it crawled away. Not wanting to have it loose in the garage to terrify me again, I picked up the dustpan and scooped it up. At arm’s length, I carried it outside and threw it in the woods.
I went in and told my wife my horrifying tale about being chased around the garage by a ninja spider that seemed to know my every move beforehand, and my sudden realization that it was my own actions that were causing my hysteria. When I was done, she looked at me with love in her eyes and with all the care and concern in the world said,
“Dumbass.”
