I don’t really like spiders, I never have and if you ask me I can’t explain to you why.
I notice that when most people write about these horrid arachnids or post about them on facebook they frequently put pictures of the little horrors. I have opted not to do this. Primarily because I detest those pictures and find myself immediately unfriending anyone who conducts such an act of cyber terrorism.
My cat disagrees, he likes spiders, in fact they are his favourite prey. When we first moved to the money pit we found mouse traps all over and the cats were a real bonus as we didn’t spot a mouse at al during the building work. Recently we found a couple of mice but our cats seem to spend most of their time simply looking at said mouse and waiting for me to move it. That’s fine, I can cope with mice. I can’t cope with spiders.
It always happens at the end of summer that for some reason there are literally* thousands of spiders. As I have aged I have come to terms with even the massive spindly ones, but these are substantial “real” spiders, with big bodies and they bleed*, they cannot be squashed and they move so fast they can escape my Dyson.
I hate these spiders, I really hate them. The Turk can’t understand why, but it’s not really been an issue for a while, we never seemed to get spiders until last autumn. We were living in the loft of our house at the time and I couldn’t work out where these blooming massive spiders were coming from, and why they were up on the third story of our house. I would get up in the night, bring the boy into the living room for a feed and there would be one, lurking, in the middle of the room (usually dead). Luckily because I am a grown up and the need to not freak out the baby became my highest priority I managed not to scream blue murder, but to place a container over the dead spider so it was out of my sight while I nursed.
One night a live one ran out from under the fridge….that wasn’t a good night.
I worked it out one day many months later, when I caught the skinny cat bringing a large one in and dropping it on the kitchen floor, the two cats then pranced around looking at it for a bit and tapping at it when it stood still….before romping off outside and leaving we and spider to it. This year after I flipped out at the ginormous creature brought into (and then lost in) the kitchen my cat tried to appease me by bringing the next one up to my bedroom…and the one after that as well. During the spider month I no longer go to the loft (where the cats sleep) alone.
The Turk has real issues about killing spiders, and I have real issues about not killing them. This started when on a couple of
many many many occasions he would attempt to pick them up in a tissue, drop them, find them, pick them up then drop them but walk over to the window and pretend to throw them out. I’m not stupid, I know they’re still there. I now have to be satisfied (from a reasonable distance) that they are well and truly squashed before I am happy.
*not literally, but definitely inside my own mind