I saved a spider from drowning

I think the ironic part of this blog post is that I do not like spiders. At all. I can tolerate the little bitty ones that live along the edges of my living room, but I’m not a fan of bigger ones. Like anything over the size of my pinky finger.

It was to my surprise that I saved one from drowning and stopped short of giving it artificial respiration. Thankfully it didn’t come to that. I probably would’ve blown it away with every breath.

The night began quietly enough with a relaxing dip in the bathtub. (And by relaxing, I mean I had to fill the tub before I climbed in because the shower is fubarred, and when you run the bathtub water, you get beat on the heat with water from the shower. Conversely, if you have a shower, your feet are bathed with a constant stream of water that feels like the drippings of glaciers.)

I noticed a small spider about the size of a quarter (legs included) trying to climb out of the tub.

I watched for awhile as if I was watching the Discovery Channel. Apparently this is what I do when I’m tired and having a bath.

Even though I tried to help the spider climb the tub wall with a bar of Dove soap, he fell into the water.

I’m not sure if spiders can swim, but this little arachnid sure tried. He looked like Jack Dawson plummeting away from the Titanic.

And so, I cupped my hands, caught the spider, and threw the whole handful onto the bathroom mat.

My heroics were rewarded by getting the mat wet while the spider clung to my hand and threatened to bite my flesh with its three inch fangs.*

After panicked flicking, the spider finally landed on the mat too, and after a few moments, seemed to shake itself off. It went skittering off to the linen closet, to hide until the next time I need a towel, at which point it will launch itself onto my face and attack it until I look like Mick Jagger.

I’m trying my best to be good to all animals—especially those I do not like.

It feels good to help out. It really does. And it seems hypocritical to bemoan the fate of stray cats and lost dogs when I crush little insects beneath my size 8 foot.

Well, except for silverfish. Those things eat books.

* Fangs may not have looked exactly as described.

Spider in my bathtub may have been a little smaller than this one. May have been.
The spider in my bathtub may have been a little smaller than this one. May have been.

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