Excerpt from "A Journal of the Spider Wars".
Monday, Aug. 20: I came home from work to find a good-sized wolf spider scuttling across the living room floor. He must have been an inch and a half across. I swear, these hairylegged monsters are getting bigger every year.
I squished him under a paper towel as he was trying to hide under the couch.
I wonder if there are any more down there? Mental note: move couch, sweep underneath.
Thursday, Aug. 23: Another big spider in living room. This one was bigger than Monday's! He hid under the TV for a while, but came out, no doubt looking for tasty crickets to eat, and found the heel of my shoe, instead.
Why are all these spiders sneaking into the house this year? Is it the weather? What do they think they can find to eat in here?
Sunday, Aug. 26: Biggest spider so far, nearly three inches across, if you stretched out his hairy legs.
Squished him with a napkin. I could almost swear he made a little noise when he died. Not the crunchy noise they all make, but a sort of squeek.
Like a little scream.
Friday, Aug. 31: Almost called Animal Control today. I trapped this one in an empty peanut butter jar. I thought for a minute that the kids next door had let their pet tarantula loose when I saw it, just sitting on the couch. It's at least five inches across. How does a wolf spider get this big?
It's definitely making some kind of noise in the jar. A sort of screeching, cooing noise.
I've decided not to poke air holes in the lid.
Wednesday, Sept. 5: I finally moved the couch, and along with the dust bunnies, I found a crack between the wall and the floorboards. And another one was squeezing through. I beat it to death with a claw hammer.
I think it swore vengeance on me as it died. That must be my imagination, right?
Friday, Sept. 14: In the last week, I've killed nine more intruder spiders (I suspect they're scouts), despite sealing up every crack and crevice. I glanced out the window yesterday and spotted a foot-long one jiggling the doorknob with its pedipalps. It was smoking a Marlboro.
Saturday, Sept. 15: They aren't smart enough to avoid bear traps. Take that, arachnids!
Sunday, Sept. 16: They are now smart enough to avoid bear traps, and also to reset them. I need to buy more gauze at the drug store.
Wed., Sept. 19: The local garden spiders are now on their side as well. I opened my door to find a web reading "Your (sic) dead, buddy".
They need to work on their spelling. For some reason, I now have a craving for bacon.
Friday, Sept. 21: Two of them tried to get in by pretending to be Mormon missionaries. It wasn't very convincing. Real missionaries are nice and polite, and don't lunge at you, encircle you in bristle-coated limbs, and attempt to sink their chelicerae into your neck.
Also, they wear ties with those white shirts.
Date unknown: I may not have much more time. My flamethrower's fuel is almost exhausted. The spiders have taken the Venezuelan oil fields, and looted Fort Knox. I move by day, but any of my fellow refugees could be a spider in disguise. I saw a man strung up for winning at poker with a pair of eights.
The spiders conduct sweeps by night, wrapping humans in silk and spiriting them away to their hidden lairs. They are growing stronger, and larger, and their new political party has just formed a minority government.
I fear that this could have been prevented. If only I'd swept under the couch sooner!
Matthew Claxton writes for the Langley Advance.
