Few things inspire fear in me like spiders. I don’t think it’s uncommon for most of us, or at least anyone who has seen Arachnophobia. Honestly, I mean for a 10 year old to see that extremely large, eight legged puppet of death that springs on Jeff Daniels is absolutely horrifying.
Specifically, I have an especial paranoia toward wolf spiders. They do not spin webs to capture their prey (although the thought of being caught in a spider web is equally terrifying; just watch Peter Jackson’s The Return of the King) they are hunters. They are dark or brownish with hairy bristles on their legs and body. I always thought it was the “hairy factor” that gave them their name, but it’s not. Originally, it was thought that these “hunting” spiders hounded their victims in packs. However, this is just a myth. These bad boys always hunt alone; they are in a constant state of…rogue.
It is amazing to me how fear is always something that is projected onto us and then accepted. You see wolf spiders and I go way back. Every year, in the farmhouse, we would be invaded by these furry guys. This was quite a point of frustration to my mother. I think she felt under attack, like the spiders had a personal vendetta against her. This wasn’t true; wolf spiders often enter homes during the fall simply because it’s getting too damn cold outside. Anyway, we had a bunch of them in our home every year. They especially liked to hang out underneath the bathtub (I assume they wanted to share the warmth of our bathwater), and every now and then they would come out from under the tub and scamper across the floor.
I was at a point of my life that I like to call the “squashing years”. Between the age of 3 and 4 I loved to squish, splat, and squash everything I could. Apparently, the wolf spiders in the bathroom were some of my favorite targets. My dad tells me stories of grandeur still, about how I had no fear towards them. He always said, “Get’em Cory, those are the bad guys!” and I would pancake them, laughing at the smeared evidence on my hands.
The ironic part about this is that wolf spiders are actually quite timid creatures. Their size (generally between 1 ½ to 2 ½ inches, but they have been known to grow up to 4 inches) is often extremely intimidating to humans, but if one (the spider) is disturbed it will quickly just run away from you, not unlike unfamiliar cats. People have reported accounts of wolf spiders climbing onto desktops, and then quickly darting toward their fingers. This is not necessarily from the spider’s want to attack humans. But, although having good eyesight, wolf spiders cannot really differentiate between a human finger and an insect. So, if you put your finger in front of a wolf spider it may try to bite you, thinking your finger is something else (but hey, who hasn’t made that mistake before?).
Whether they mean to be or not, personally I find them to be one of the most unnerving creatures on the face of this earth. I will most likely always be haunted by these furry predators, and that might just be nature’s punishment for my “squashing years”.
Wolf spiders always freaked me out, too. It's the hairiness, I think.
ReplyDeleteMy dad use to encourage me to squash the scorpions and vinegaroons that would amass near our house in the early morning hours when we lived in El Paso. He'd give me a small shovel and I'd go off a-squashing too. I never thought of those as squashing years, but you make an interesting observation there.
Note to self: Do not Google Image wolf spider ;-)
ReplyDeleteI realize now though, that I have never seen one of these in real life. I'm not generally arachnophobic, but I suspect these would send me in that direction. Definitely the hairiness.
I'm really curious about both of you having gone through similar squashing phases. Very curious...
Cory, wow--this is a great wolf-spider post! You brought me back to childhood, too. Although I never squashed a wolf-spider like you and Dylan, I did catch one once when I was about 6 or 7....I'll never forget it. I put a small Mason jar over it to trap it, slipped some stiff paper under the mouth to make a seal, flipped him over, threw some grass in, and quickly screwed the Mason lid back on with little holes punched in it. Then I sat with him in the shade and just watched. He was so, so angry at being in that jar that he kept charging and attacking the sides of it, spewing venom everywhere...he was truly the kind of monster that nightmares are made of. I was so terrified at all the white lines of venom he made inside the jar that I had to ask a grown-up to let him go...I couldn't bear the thought of unscrewing that lid. Although I'd never had a fear of spiders before that, that hairy little brute did me in. I laid awake for many a night after that, scared out of my wits. I get the shivers just thinking about it!
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