No one said there would be spiders

Last week was supposed to be the week we started introducing the Dog Wonder to vegetables and other table scraps. Celery was a safe choice, I thought, and gave him some along with some delicious unidentifiable organs from the carcass of a roast chicken (though not the liver–that was all mine). Cue two days of vomiting. Of special note was the damp patch I found on my orange rug after leaving him alone during a shower, and the subsequent re-reappearance in several spots on the couch. Grand delusions of raw feeding? Gone.

Taking in the view.

This is not a picture of spiders.

While the dog seems to be content to live on processed food, there is another, better digested, addition to his diet. Giant British house spiders. It’s barely September, but it seems we’re declaring it officially autumn as I’ve reverted to living in fear of going downstairs at night with bare feet. The Guardian even says so. So far, the dog has caught at least two, that I know of. TMM was there when he found the first one, and pried the dog’s mouth open so he could pull the spider out, put it in a glass and show it to me before releasing it outside. Horrifying. At least I now have a definitive answer to “Guess How Much I Love You?” I also found a brown leg (about as long as the top two segments of my index finger) in front of my fridge. The fridge! The horror!

Spiders here are so worse than anything else I’ve ever dealt with. Dog vomit all over my bed? Fine. Scary drain in my dorm? A breeze. The rat that lived in the kitchen garbage can for weeks in the house that had frames but no windows? We had a détente by the end. But spiders? No. I hate spiders so much, that if Dog Wonder hadn’t proved himself more than capable of handling them, I would consider getting a cat. And I hate cats almost as much as spiders.

I’m in the process of shaking out all my winter boots that have been stored in closets. I pick the boot up, throw it against the radiator and run to the other side of the room. So far, it’s working, but if I find something with too many legs in any of them I will burn those suckers in situ. We have a neighbor with a blow torch. Just saying.

Just for this, I’m seeing the bright side of leaving the country in two weeks for the business of having to acquire my new visa from the States. In addition to having Halloween and Thanksgiving at home, I also get a spider-free existence. In the Bay Area (or, as I like to call it in these situations, the civilized world) spiders do not get that big and then come into the house. Yes, I’ve heard about tarantulas at Mt. Diablo–but we don’t visit each other. That’s how it’s supposed to work.

I’m going to go have a very long scratch now.


About tara

Often heard to refrain "I left San Francisco for this?" Formerly homeschooled. Living the dirt-poor post-student expat life in various non-urban areas of England's North. Sanity preserved by cooking yummy foods for a multiple allergy diet.
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