You know how people that hate cats always attract cats? Well, apparently, the same thing applies to arachnids. Yecchh! So, this is how my morning went, yesterday:
I noticed our older dog, Nala, slinking past the back door. That usually means someone is up to no good and for some reason, Nala always looks like the guilty party even when she’s not. So I peeked out the door and saw our younger dog, Skye, standing proud, tail up, head up–with a mouth full of squirrel. Oh, yay. My first thought was that my Southern Man has usually been home the previous FIVE times this has happened and been the hero to get the squirrel away from the jaws of death. (My hero, not the squirrels’.)
As I watched, Skye flipped the squirrel up, caught it and started shaking it violently like she does with
her Nala’s old rope toy. She dropped it and I could see that it was still alive, but injured. As she went to grab it again, the poor squirrel showed some fighting spirit and attempted to fight her off, unsuccessfully. That’s when I took action. Just as Skye dropped the squirrel again, I ran out and scared her off from it. Then, both dogs were sent into the house.
Now, I had to get the squirrel out of our yard. It was injured, but I wasn’t sure how badly. I grabbed a spade and a stick and gently prodded it onto the spade. Its back legs seemed to be injured, but it managed to jump off the spade and attempt to run away, using its front legs. After about 5 tries, it finally stayed on the spade and just looked at me. Maybe it realized that I wasn’t going to eat it. (Not the right season.) (Kidding.) (Actually, it isn’t the right season.) (Even if it was the right season, I wouldn’t eat it…too much dog slobber.) (Joking. Sarcasm.) (I can just imagine the hateful thoughts and/or messages/emails I might possibly get after this post.)
ANYWAYS, I carried it to the edge of the yard and put the spade over the stockade fence to where there was a large, tall stump and it leaped to freedom. Or maybe it fell. All I know is, I looked for it later and there was no sign of it, so I am going to assume it may have survived and hopefully will not fall off the fence into the gaping jaws of death that is our dog, Skye. Now, if my Southern Man had been home, he may have put it out of its misery, but I couldn’t bring myself to do that. Plus, I wasn’t absolutely sure that it was mortally wounded. Considering what it had just been through, it didn’t seem particularly distressed.
So, that was that. Then, it was time for me to take a shower, etc.. After I got out of the shower, I spied a black, dime-sized spot on the floor, in the corner of the cabinet and wall by the toilet. I looked closer and my feeling of dread was correct: SPIDERRRRRRRRRRRR!! Once again, my thoughts were that my Southern Man wasn’t home! I thought about calling him (as a joke..sort of) to tell him he needed to come home and kill a spider for me, but I was afraid the spider might disappear while I made the call and then I’d never be able to peacefully sleep in our bedroom ever again.
Over the years, I have used many different implements to dispose of spiders including, but not limited to, vacuum cleaners, large, heavy books, wine bottles, Southern Man’s shoes (they are the largest in the house) and even baseball bats. (That one was a really big spider. *chill up the spine*) So there I was, fresh out of the shower, looking for weapons. After I put everything on the floor up so the spider couldn’t hide, I folded up some papers that had been part of a bible study and grabbed my hair dryer. I turned it on medium heat and low speed and aimed it at the spider. Adrenaline was rushing now. Those suckers can move fast, you know! The goal was to get the spider out of the corner onto a larger, flat section of the floor where I could easily splat it with the folded up papers–not have it run too fast across the floor and up my bare leg. Oh, that would have been really bad. *another chill up the spine*
The spider felt the air and moved out of the corner. It would run (actually it was probably more of a slow jog), then freeze in place with its legs all scrunched up. Somehow, by adjusting the angle of the dryer in relation to the spider, and the distance from the dryer to the spider, I was able to carefully maneuver it to the floor tile of death. I refer to it as the floor tile of death because, once I was sure it was not going to move, I quickly splatted it with the folded up paper…then smooshed it around. When I felt it was probably definitely deceased, I looked at the paper and, yes, it was an unrecognizable black splotch. I threw it out and texted my Southern Man that he should be proud that little ol’ me killed a spider…with a hair dryer. That got him curious. I told him I’d blog about it, so here I am.
Now, for your entertainment pleasure, here are several movies from the 1950’s. (I love old movies!) Back then, in the “Atomic Age”, there were a lot of movies made about creatures being exposed to radiation and mutating into some huge, terrifying version of themselves–think Godzilla, 50-foot woman, giant mutant ants and, of course, spiders. *chill up the spine* There were also lots of movies involving aliens (think Roswell). None that I know of about mutant squirrels, though.
I love how the dramatic music is so similar in all of them. The special effects, by today’s standards, are pitiful, but that, along with the dramatic music, is what makes them so fun to watch. There are so many to choose from and I couldn’t find a full-length version of the 1954 movie “Them”, but if you like these types of movies, you’ll have to find that one and watch it. It’s about monster ants in New Mexico and is a must-see classic.
Enjoy…that is, if you dare!