I don't mind spiders, but in their place. Which is not taking an aggressive stance on my bathroom tile.
I used to put these guys back outside until I realized they LIKE being indoors and would usually make their way back in within 24 hours (I know this because one was missing one leg and I had to put him out twice before finally deciding to kill him so he didn't make any more attempts. I make no apologies. Find one of these guys on your pillow as you're getting ready for bed and you will totally understand).
So Big Ag did the manly man thing and dispatched the latest trespasser for me.
A little rattled after my close encounter, I decided to waste yet another evening of my life by browsing Facebook, when I noticed a large black sock on the carpet next to me. And right as I was about to scold Big Ag about 1) leaving his socks around and 2) wearing black socks in summer, the sock moved...slowly.
I took a closer look and realized it was a massive tarantula. Here he is attempting to hide from the camera, which I grabbed in between screaming fits.
Of course my screams brought Big Ag running into the room just as I was running out of it. Entering Hero Mode once again, he gently scooped the big tarantula into a mixing bowl and we took it down into the pasture and set it free. But not before it scurried around a lot as he was trying to get it into the bowl, sending me out of the room with more screams.
At that point I should have just taken a xanax and called it a night. A fright night.
Instead, I took a peek on the patio, and on the outside of the screen noticed an extremely large beetle hanging a couple of feet up. Again, I called Big Ag and he tapped on the screen and the "beetle" fell, only it was not a beetle but rather another tarantula -- a baby this time -- which began walking away.
Obviously at this point I've realized it's going to be a banner year for the tarantulas, and within a couple of months I'm sure they will taking over my house, garden and blog, so look forward to future episodes from the Hot Tarantula Homestead.
Anyway, this sordid tale continues. As I'm checking to make sure Baby Tarantula is making his way away from the house, I notice a massive black widow building a web around the entrance to the dog house. Now you may hang out on my library carpet or in my master bathroom, dear spider, but if you are a poisonous spider, if you fuck with anything near my dog, I will become your merciless and swift Angel of Death -- no more screaming at this point; we're done with that shit -- I will spray, step or swat you into the Kingdom of Wherever Spiders Go After Death (hopefully not the same place we're going).
After that, I'd had enough. Even Big Ag's previously-recorded Deadliest Catch episodes couldn't convince me to stay up. Besides, crabs look an awful lot like.....well, you know. Spiders. There's no way I was going to watch that after my evening. I checked myself into bed (after inspecting the carpet, bid skirt, sheets, pillows and duvet carefully for interlopers) and called it a night.