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Goodbye little Ned

I do not kill bugs. I can’t bring myself to do it. I am never the one to lift the shoe, no matter how big, hairy or fast the insect. I can’t even stand to watch the cats (and now Humphrey, who sometimes thinks he’s a cat) bat the poor little things around for 10 minutes before they actually ingest them.

This does not mean that I like bugs. Nor does it mean that I like having them around. In fact, the opposite is true. When faced with a creature with more than four legs, and after I give out a short high-pitched yelp, I somehow muster the courage to coax the intruder onto the closest portable flat surface, only to clumsily tear through the house to toss it outside. It’s never pretty, but it works. The consequences of said bug left in the house are too frightening to consider (i.e. spider dangling from web into your mouth while you sleep).

This brings me to the point of my post. Last year, Dan left for one of his many trips to China. I was therefore left at home alone to fend for myself. This includes re-setting the home network after a power failure so that the telephone and internet would be functional. Not surprisingly, the cable modem, router and VOIP boxes are high up in the rafters of our basement, just over the washer and dryer.

On this particular day, as I was cursing under my breath (or not so under my breath) about the internet going down for the third time that day, and was climbing up on the dryer to reach the boxes, I saw…

Ned in stealth mode

…and I froze in place. Now I was freaked out. I still had to turn my attention, reach up and fiddle with the plugs, knowing that a spider (the scariest of all the bugs, that is except for the house centipede, which we saw scurry across our restaurant table on our second date – **WARNING** click at your own risk) was within one foot from where I was standing. I doubt he was happy to see me either, though I can’t be 100% sure.

I finished resetting the network and I slowly climbed down and backed away, careful not to disturb him. At least if he was in his web I could keep close watch and, better yet, be sure he wasn’t going to come after me (because spiders often do).

That was over a year ago. And since then, each time I go to do laundry, Ned (as I like to call him) and I have a little stare down. I keep my eye on him; he keeps all 6 of his on me. We have an understanding though. I leave him alone; he eats smaller bugs that have found their way into the house. I would prefer him to live somewhere else, but he’s chosen our basement beside the dryer. And I’ve learned to live with it.

Ned, in profile

And now we are moving. A tiny part of me worries about Ned. We have a history together. We’ve shared many dark and light loads, he in his web, and me in my jammies. And now he will soon be forced to move on to a new home…if he even makes it that far. I wish only good things for him: plentiful meals, warm air and the solitude he craves. He deserves the best. Farewell, dear Ned. At laundry time, you will be missed.

I won’t miss his weird stripey legs though. They are gross.

April 6, 2006 - 1:44 pm

Kris - That brought a tear to my eye.

Farewell, Ned.

April 6, 2006 - 2:22 pm

Carole - What a sweet and sad story, Shan. I can’t believe you’ve had the same spider living in your basement for over a year.

You were so right in warning about the picture of that house centepede…DISGUSTING!! It brings back some not so fond memories of our apartment on Gilmour. We had one of those crawl in behind a wall. It was huge. I didn’t sleep for a week.

April 7, 2006 - 7:04 am

Shan - We had quite a few co-habitating with us in my first apartment in Kingston. They may actually be my worst nightmare.

They give me the severe heebie jeebies.

April 7, 2006 - 7:13 am

Carole - So, I had a spider encounter on the bus of all places this morning. I stood up to get off then bus when I looked down and saw what I would call a large spider on my pant leg. I thought of you and your kindness towards little Ned as I tried to gently brush the spider off with my purse. It crawled around my leg and then disappeared under the cuff of my pants. I had visions of being this crazy woman trying to tear my boots off at the Bank Street bus stop.

I don’t know what happened to the spider, but I don’t think it will survive the hustle and bustle of the 95 or Bank Street. Maybe it’s in my boot and I just don’t know it. I’m afraid to look.

So, I’m off to a great start on this Friday morning! The way I see it, things can only get better.

April 7, 2006 - 7:30 am

Shan - I try to avoid the ‘crazy lady’ reaction to bugs that have found their way onto my person as well, but it never fails that I scream and then run around in circles thinking that they may not be able to cling on while I’m moving. How dumb of me? Have you ever noticed that a spider on a car windshield can hold on for dear life up to about 30+ kms per hour? That being said, there’s a good chance that my running, shaking and the high speed swatting of my limbs will do no good in getting rid of them.

Carole, If I was you, my boots would have already been off, shaken and banged on the ground…just in case.

Man, I’m pathetic.

April 10, 2006 - 1:25 pm

Liz - How ’bout those Virginia Sprogs, Shan? I know you’re missing those about now…