Craig and I used to have a pet spider. Actually, I should say that Craig had a pet spider. He's scared of spiders usually, and they're not allowed to live in the apartment, but this little guy lived in the corner of our doorway on our front porch. Apparently, that's okay with Craig even though it's practically the same thing as being inside. I usually name our pet bugs, but Craig took a shining to this particular eight-legged friend and gave him the name Moses.
Craig's pet Moses was a brown spider, not too big, not too small, and was definitely a homebody. He was there in his little corner day and night, to say goodbye to in the morning when we left for work and say hello to when we got home in the evening. It was such a joy to hear Craig greet his sweet Moses each day.
One day, we learned two important facts about our spider friend. Number one was that Moses was a girl. Number two was that Moses was going to be a mother. The sudden sight of Moses now guarding a delicate sack of eggs brought some concern to both Craig and I. I love babies as much as anyone, but if you've ever seen Charlotte's Web, you know that the spider babies that come out of an egg sack are quite numerous. And I will remind you that Moses' home was in the corner of our front door. I think we both were able to clearly envision a million spider babies coming out of their eggs and seeping through the cracks around our door to invade our home.
But what do we do? Moses is our pet; we let her live there for weeks, and it didn't feel right to evict her just because she had laid some eggs. Everyone has the right to have children. We discussed trying to gently remove the egg sack and place it somewhere farther away from our apartment, but we knew that Moses' sole purpose in life now was to guard this egg sack she had created. How would we be able to move the egg sack without endangering Moses' life? Could we move the egg sack without killing all those precious little spider babies?
Several days passed, and we looked up at our little spider family-to-be every time we walked through the door wondering what we would do. We knew the spider eggs had to go, but neither one of us wanted to do it. You could see the babies inside growing bigger under the watchful eyes of their mother. You could see Moses' posture grow more protective and cautious each day as her children came closer to hatching.
I decided to try to move the egg sack. I wasn't scared of being attacked by a protective mother spider. It was worth trying to save the babies. I took a piece of paper and tried to slide it up under the egg sack, expecting it to be soft, squishy, maybe a little bit sticky. Instead, I found that the egg sack was completely encased in a clear, hard shell and very firmly attached to the wall. There was no way I was going to be able to detach the egg sack and move it elsewhere.
Finally, this morning, I came home from the grocery store to find the doorway completely cleaned of webbing, and Moses and her eggs gone. I was relieved that it was done and that I didn't have to do it, but, at the same time, I think I miss Moses.
I'm sorry Craig killed your babies, Moses. I know you worked hard to produce them, lay them and protect them. Your life came to nothing because you chose the wrong place to lay your egg sack.
