8-Legged Friends

No, not octopi, although they are terrific friends when you need an extra hand.

I'm talking about my new appreciation for the creepy, crawly type. Spiders!

You see, ever since I was in 5th grade and got prank phone called (yeah, you could do that pretty easily before Caller ID was invented) by some random girl who told me it was bad fortune to kill a spider, good fortune to see a spider, the smaller the better and the earlier in the day the better, I've always thought twice before straight squishing the little buggers.

Don't get me wrong, I've taken out my fair share - usually because they are somewhere they shouldn't be and I'm not in the mood to be humane - but for the most part I've perfected my catch & release method:

1. Grab a cup. Clear is better, but by no means necessary. Also grab a magazine subscription insert or a post card or one of those 20% off coupons from Bed, Bath & Beyond. Something thin and sturdy.
2. Trap the intruder under the cup, trying not to break any little legs in the process.
3. Slide the card between the rim of the cup and the wall or floor, then while keeping it pressed against the rim tip the cup upright causing the spider to fall to the bottom of the cup. BOOM! Spider in a cup.
4. Now this is when I escort him out and away from my house, the whole time giving him a piece of my mind, telling him he's not welcome, if I see him again he's toast, and to tell his friends and family the same.

And like that, no spider, karma intact.

But that is the me who lives in San Diego, where, besides an occasional onslaught of houseflies, I can probably count the flying insects I've seen in 4.5 years on two hands.

But the me who lives in Rio has a completely different understanding of these guys' place in the circle of life. This is how I see it, quite literally:

Mosquitos eat me. Spiders don't eat me. Spiders eat mosquitos. Spiders are good. Spiders are friends.
(As long as they post up where I do not.)

This all sank in when I witnessed an event one night last week during a particularly annoying struggle with the pests. Sitting at the kitchen table, under a beautiful paper lamp, I was getting bombarded by one particularly large mosquito that was quite elusive (hence his size, I'm sure). As I unsuccessfully swatted at him he flew into the lamp for refuge. But alas, my new 8-legged friend (who I am right now christening Dogg the Mosquito Hunter) was anticipating this and had built a web ready to apprehend the fugitive.

I looked in at the exact moment Dogg leaped into action, quickly snatching his prey and tucking him into his silk death bed, snug as a bug in a rug. I let out an audible "All right!" and with awe and pride I watched Dogg dine. I felt safe. Justice was served. I was transformed.

Dogg is still right here, getting bigger every day, and it looks like he cleaned up his lair a little after last night when I witnessed 3 carcasses under wraps. It pays to have friends in high places.