Thursday, August 22, 2013


I stepped out into the garage this morning to put out recyclables. (So thrilled that now we can separate them!) Started to step back inside and noticed this huge, quarter-size-body, spider right in the doorway. I hyperventilated but stepped on it.

It was a her. Hundreds of tiny little spiders went scurrying everywhere. I started stomping here, there, everywhere... Squealing all the while.

No one came to my aid. My guy was in the bathroom. My girl cat who chases and eats insects had, unbeknownst to me, slipped into the garage when I opened the door. My boy cat is blind and I think he's hard of hearing, too. (Except when it's mealtime.)

So there I was. Dancing and stomping and screaming with no audience and no rescuers. Just me.

Once I didn't see any more gnat-sized spiders scurrying, I grabbed the insecticide and sprayed wildly. That's when I saw my cow-cat, sticking her little face in the door, wondering what the commotion was about.

I dragged her in and closed the door. Looks like I may need to get another bodyguard.


  1. The cat's wondering if you've finally lost it.

    1. Of course she is! Not that she isn't a little dingy herself!!

    2. You never know what you're made of until put to the test. Heroes are those who handle whatever is put before them. Congratulations, hero. Um, heroette?

    3. It was self-preservation, not courage, that made me stomp the little critters!


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