Sneaky Basement Widow

Black Widow Spider number eight – I applaud your sneaky antics. You’ve been strutting your stuff in the laundry room; assuming perhaps that I hadn’t noticed. Dessicated insects litter the windowsill, your presence sensed for ages – visual confirmation eluding me until tonight. You are craftier than your seven predecessors; waiting until the light bulb burnt out – waiting for me to fumble about in darkness before making a move. Kudos number eight; you almost got away with it, but I saw you – the jigs up.

Black Widow number eight concerns me a little more than the others. Once I was able to wrap my head around a Vancouver basement alive with Black Widows, avoidance was easy. The other spiders stayed put, discovered under the broom or in a corner, it was easy to dispatch them. Common sense dictated a few precautions – we managed under the same roof without incident. Number eight is different; by far the largest, certainly the fastest and without question the sneakiest.

Until number eight tried pulling a fast one on me – I’d just about forgotten about basement Widows. On some level I knew I still had a Black Widow problem; never occurring to me I would have to do something about it in late October. Still pondering why seven Widows never bothered me, yet sneaky number eight crossed the line.

You have no one to blame but yourself number eight – we could have stayed the course, continued along the path of mutual respect and tolerance. You had to strut your stuff, get in my face and rock the boat. Now I have to hire an exterminator; at the very least, purchase your death in a spray can, insecticidal bomb or nasty trap. I wish you could understand how this breaks my heart – almost all Black Widows one – seven were captured and released outside. My sincerest apologies to number five or maybe six – you caught me at a bad moment – your stomping was merely a reflex. Number one was forced to live in a jar for far too long simply because you are handsome arachnids.

Prior to this evenings encounter with number eight I was prepared to share my house; the last thing I wanted was a spider war. You forced my hand number eight; I’m sorry to inform you – I know where you live, I saw you sneaking into the wall socket when you thought I was otherwise occupied. You’ve ruined things for everyone – why did you have to be so sneaky?

12 thoughts on “Sneaky Basement Widow

  1. Lovely tale, first instalment.

    I used to lived in Sydney (Australia, not Nova Scotia!) where we had Funnelweb spiders. They were nasty little killers that liked hiding under pillows! Strange, but you get used to your local dangers (though not the remote ones)

    I had a brazilian colleague who told me that he had a Black Widow living in his car. He was quite used to it. Sadly none of his girlfriends appreciated the company (his or the spider, whichever) and his romantic dates never lasted long. Jealousy on the part of the widowed spider, I’m sure.

    • I’ve heard of funnel spiders – we had a much tamer cousin where I grew up. It’s odd how we get used to them – I totally understand your colleague allowing that Black Widow to share his car.:)

  2. First…hear my blood curdling scream…

    My exterminator told me that widows have to have the poison hit the underside because of the hard outer shell, not sure foggers will do the job. Good to get rid of the bugger before he lays eggs and decides to start his family tree in your basement. πŸ˜‰

    • All I can say is – oh crap! Under-belly huh? It figures. As for that family tree – they’ve been at it for well over a year now, I’m sure there are far more than I think lurking beneath the laundry basket. I should have done something about it long before number eight pushed my button. (At least I have a clear understanding of how many Black Widows I have to spot before going off the deep end) Yikes – the more I think about it – if I’ve seen eight, there must be many, many more. I’ll let you know how I deal with the problem πŸ™‚

  3. Loved this post…group up in black widow country (Eastern Oregon), and always seemed to have one as a pet (in an aquarium) as they are so beautiful. However, also have many memories of crawling under our deck…and occasionally feeling the strong webs that BW are known for, which always sent a shiver down my spine. They are not to be messed with πŸ™‚

  4. Because Peg has a hard time remembering the names of all the bloggers who’s stories I tell her, to her you have forever become “Vancouver Spider Lady”

    This most recent story, and why #8 should be the magic number to raise your hackles and go on the offensive only makes my new ponder more heartfelt:

    Why is it that YOU attract all those black widow?

    And it is heatlhy to hang around you?

    Oh, we’ll have many things to consider when we finally get a chance to share that pint!

    A retired photographer looks at life from behind an RV steering wheel.
    Life Unscripted

      • I can’t call it your ‘magnetic personality’ because I don’t think widows are attracted to magnetism…. hmmm… no smart rejoinder on this one.
        You’re the only person I know who doesn’t need a fly swatter you need a widow swatter — which SOUNDS just terrible!


  5. A lot of good information about the Black Widow, i still prefer not to see one again. I have no clue what happened to my spider, and as long as I don’t see it again, I’m happy. Currently, my yellow pick-up is infested with ladybugs. Their cuteness has worn off extremely quickly!

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