Arachnophilia. That’s not a word you come across too often. It means: An inordinate fondness for spiders.
Most people are not arachnophiliac by nature. Many people are not even moderately arachno-tolerant. And it’s not too hard to see why.
Those legs. That scurrying. Those eyes. Those fangs. That furry abdomen. That James Bond movie, where James is in bed, sleeping, and someone sneaks in and uncorks a Black Widow spider next to his neck. Or is it James who sneaks in and uncorks? I can’t remember.
But the truth is, spiders can bite. And spider bites can be painful and ugly to look at. And some spiders are poisonous, and maybe even vicious and vengeful.
Still, I honestly can’t understand why anyone would want to harm a spider, just for being a spider. And I also can’t figure out why people spend so much time wondering whether there are creatures on other planets, and what would they would look like, when there are creatures on our own planet that are so alien and eight-legged and extraordinary to look at.
A spider expert once told me that the best thing to do with a spider, if you see it in your house, is to “wave to it and wish it well on its merry way”. But not everyone feels that way.
I caught sight of this rain spider earlier on this evening, and I wished it well, but in the background, there was screaming. So I did what I always do with a spider when someone screams.
Tupperware Catch-&-Release. You get a Tupperware-dish, you coax the spider into it, you ease the lid on top, and you escort the spider outside, tipping it carefully onto a leaf, so that it can safely find its way back in again.
Goonight, Rain Spider, and hamba gahle.
Sent from my iPhone