By Diane Ako
I don't know what's come over me, but I made a startling revelation recently vis a vis my emotional relationship with large arachnids: They no longer scare me.
I was in my super small bathroom (42 square feet, not even kidding), which is so small that when I want to shut the door I need to move stuff around to achieve this. I saw movement out of the corner of my eye when I hung up a towel.
I peeked behind the door and it was a huge cane spider. That guy was probably five inches in diameter and hairy. I also know they jump.
After getting over the initial half second shock of realizing a hairy beast with half a dozen eyes was peeking back at me, I decided I just didn't care.
I have read up on them before because I've found them in my house now and then. I know they're beneficial because they eat other insects including the ones I most hate, American cockroaches.
Therefore, the enemy of my enemy is my friend. The spider gets to live in here if it wishes.
I saw it again the next day. Same spot. Didn't faze me.
I took a harder look at it. It has seven legs. I knew I recognized him. I saw him last a couple of years ago in the hall closet.
I named him Seven after the number of legs he has.
I have a couple of friends who don't like these kinds of creatures. Between the "pet" spider (named Seven) and the "pet" gecko (named Patrick) living in here I can see the number of visitors paying housecalls on the decline!