Arachnadorable

I wasn’t always afraid of spiders. I had even asked for a pet tarantula for my 14th birthday. Fortunately, I got a python because shortly thereafter, I began to have horrible nightmares.

They began as garden-variety spider nightmares. Then the coincidences began. Every time I’d have a spider nightmare, the very next day, before I even shook off the fog of the dream, I would see a clutter of eight-legged beasts. One time, an egg, or rather, a hundred eggs all exploded with baby spiders all at once and they all came running toward me. Another time, I came home one evening to find my family watching Arachnophobia. On the weirdest occasion, I took a child I was watching to a nature preserve on the bayou. A canopy of banana spiders netted the entire trail just inches from the top of my head. They are beautiful bugs, but it was one of the creepiest things I’ve ever seen. My skin, still crawling from that morning’s dream orb, tingled for days. These days, whenever I see spiders in a movie or video, I have to look away so as not to invite them to my dream tuffet.

Despite all this, spiders fascinate me. They are mathematical geniuses. Their geometry is a secret that the Universe whispers to me. They move like an entire orchestra in one body. I will sit and watch them weave for hours … from a distance. My respect and fear is so intricate, at 18, I wrote ode to them. I don’t remember the entire poem, but the last line was

O Splendid Arachnid when did

our morbid friendship slip away.

Count the syllables. Neat, huh?

I also have a pact with spiders. I will never harm one or cause one to be harmed. If someone kills one on my behalf, I am very upset.

Beetlejuice has lived with us for more than a month. She is a Spiny Orb Weaver and yes, I named her; and yes, I’m certain it’s a ‘her.’ Her web is magnificent. It makes the shape of a kite and spans several feet across the western edge of our back patio. I check on her every morning and every evening. I knew I was falling for her when one Wednesday, after I pulled into my driveway and saw the lawn crew had come, I parked my car and ran to the backyard to make sure she was okay. Today, I taped a note to the grill asking the crew to leave her be because she was great mosquito catcher and friend. Adam said he doesn’t think she should live there forever, but I want her to stay as long as she likes. I happen to know she was a young spider when she built her web because I’ve watched her grow over the past month. She’s got at least another 11 months, then I’ll gladly welcome her babies, exploding like spores from their mustard-colored nursery.

((Beetlejuice has 101 pictures in an album named after her. It was difficult to choose her best look; She has so many!)