But when I nearly walk face first into them, or like last night, discover them crawling down the wall of my bedroom, it's tough to love the hairy-legged bulbous-eyed creatures. Even teensie-tiny ones.
Like this guy.
So instead of the typical arachnophobic reaction of:
1) screaming like a schoolgirl
2) running for a wad of kleenex to squish it into an spidery-shaped blob
I decided to humanely perform a "catch and release" on the eight legged home invader. I popped a clear cup over it and slid a piece of cardboard underneath, safe for transport to the wilderness that is our backyard.
It was easy enough to catch and once captured, the spider went into "stealth mode"; it folded up and became docile, something I had never witnessed before.
Until it suddenly freaked out and began violently scuttling about, trying its damedest to break free of it's clear plastic prison.
I was also trying my best to push disturbing images of fangs and pointy legs scurrying up my arm out of my head.
Finally outside and true to my "Animal Lover" monniker, I
Yes, I love animals.
But I love a peaceful spider-free night of sleep a helluva lot more.
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