At one point, I had
a collection of 42 different types of tarantulas. Not only are they large, but most of them a
quite beautiful, with colors running the full spectrum.
“What kind of a pet
is a spider?” people often ask me, with fear-tipped scorn. “What do they do?”
“They tap dance,” I
reply. “There are nights when I can’t
sleep at all, for the clicking. And
keeping them in tap shoes isn’t cheap, let me tell you!”
It is a common
misconception that tarantulas are deadly poisonous. They aren’t.
Their bite is no worse than a bee sting.
Of course, if you happen to be allergic to bee stings, it’s a different
matter.
However, the fear
that these beautiful arachnids inspire can be turned to one’s benefit, if one
is creative.
For instance, when
tiresome people (a/k/a “relatives”) drop by and stay on interminably, I tell
them I’ve just bought something I’d love to show them. I then wheel out the tank containing my
largest spider.
A flatulent
tele-Evangelist couldn’t get rid of them faster.
Though I don’t live
in the best of neighborhoods, I’ve never had the problem with break-ins that my
neighbors have. There is not a single
bar on any of my windows, and I rarely lock my door. I just put a spider cage on each windowsill. My viewable spiders apparently lead to
speculation as to what else could be inside and out of sight by the
prospective miscreant, and voila, they’re someone else’s insurance headache.
My hobby has gained
me a reputation in my town for being, shall we say, “eccentric.” The Welcome Wagon ladies warn those new to
the area about me. The closest any of
the townspeople will come to my abode is the sidewalk in front of it. I don’t get UPS deliveries. I get UPS drive-bys. This is when the article I’ve ordered is
flung from the cab in the general direction of my front lawn. I’ve learned not to order anything breakable.
Spiders can be
helpful around the house, though. They
really like to work. My largest one has
a paper route, and had absolutely no problem collecting. The others do things like type, file, and run
errands. They’re good at clearing up
after a meal, since they can wash and dry at the same time.
They are sensitive
creatures, and will take immediate offense at the singing of “The Itsy Bitsy
Spider” and recitation of “Little Miss Muffet.”
Like everyone else, all they want out of life is a little love and
respect. They are upstanding, concerned
members of the community who, after a molt, will drop their used skins in a
Goodwill box to be distributed to the less fortunate. They tried delivering meals to the poor and
shut-in, but after the first heart attack, they were forced to seek employment
elsewhere. In my opinion, this is
nothing more than specie-ism, and attorneys have been consulted.
Spiders have been
on this planet for over 350 million years; with many insects going back even further
than that. So what this tells me is that
these creatures have adapted to, and outlived, every adversity thrown at
them.
In short, if the
bomb dropped tomorrow, the survivors would be bugs and Keith Richards.
Well, at least the
bugs will have something to eat…
You are too funny. I've never known anyone who could make a humor column out of tarantulas. Since I live in the east we are eagerly awaiting the 17-yr locusts. Do tarantulas eat locusts?
ReplyDeleteTarantulas will eat any insect, small lizard, small snake that crosses their paths. We don't get the huge population of cicadas that other areas of the country get. And though they look fierce, cicadas can't bite--they have no mouth parts and so do not eat once they emerge. The object is to mate as quickly as possible, then die. Kind of sad, I think.
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