Spider Assassins Want Me Dead

            The first spider that tried to kill me did so when I was around eight years old. I was about to leave the bathroom when I saw this large spider sitting on the doorframe. I quickly opened the door and found myself leaping back and screaming like a little girl (I can honestly say that it was the only time in my life when I’ve really screamed. I also dislike the term “scream like a little girl”, but it is really the only apt description). The diabolical spider had stung a thread across the door so that it would go flying straight at my unsuspecting face when the door was opened!

            Well, it didn’t get me and I recovered from the trauma. I was okay for about a week until I pulled a Kleenex out of a box and a different spider came out with it, lunging at me! It was at that point that I knew that the spiders had it in for me. The more I watched, the more I became convinced that my parents’ house had a division of specially trained, licensed to kill, secret agent spiders.

            I even considered writing a book about them. From the perspective of the spider agents, of course – a series of short stories about each spider’s attempt to kill a targeted human, all ending abruptly as the human’s protector (my mom) put an end to their attempts.

            I must say, though, that I have to admire the spiders for their skills. Why, this one spider was running along the top of a doorframe when, out of the blue, it fastened a web, dropped down into the doorway and let its weight and momentum carry it back up to the doorframe where it continued running as if nothing had happened.

            Incidentally, that ninja spider would have landed right on my head had I not noticed it and stopped walking through the door.

            What’s that? You’re a bit skeptical about all these spiders trying to kill me? Well, let me tell you... When I wasn’t living at my parents’ house, there were no spider problems. My wife and I even had a gigantic spider (we named it Peter) living outside our window and it never troubled us. Now that we’re back at my parents’ house, there have been a number of weak attempts – that is, weak compared to this really good one.

            This spider was very clever (past tense because my wife recently managed to dispatch it). It made its home between our mattress and the box-spring – the two piece box-spring. If we lifted the mattress to get it, it could just scurry down the crack and be lost before we could get at it.

            For months it lived there, coming out only at night to feed on me – or, perhaps to inject me with venom that would kill me once it reached a great enough concentration. I’m glad it was slain when it was, otherwise who knows what could have happened. I might have dropped dead at any moment and nev

Click here to find the charity anthology containing a couple of my short stories.

If there's any subject you'd like to see me ramble on about, feel free to leave a comment asking me to do so.

Animal Superiority

            I've often thought that animals know how to live far better than we humans do. I mean, yes, we’re brilliant and have made all these nifty gadgets and such that make our lives better, but I have to wonder... Are we really as clever as we think?

            I first thought this while observing pets. A perfect example is a dog – various fictional characters, when asked what kind of animal they want to be, answer “a dog”. Because dogs get taken care of by their owners and sleep all day. The thing is, out in the wild it’s nearly the same thing. The dog sleeps most of the day and hunts so it can eat. It’s the same with all animals – eat, sleep and, sometimes, avoid predators. It’s a simple life, but a good one.

            Now look at humans. The average adult human wakes up to an alarm five (or more) days a week, goes to work tired because they didn't get enough sleep, slogs through eight hours of work and returns home. Of course, what do they have to do at home? More work to maintain their homes, unless they live in unhealthy conditions or have worked hard enough that they can pay for others to take care of their homes.

            We’re told all our lives to be grateful for what we have – a roof over our head, food to eat, etc. It’s true, of course – I can’t even imagine having to live without the conveniences I grew up with, but at the same time, I often look out the window and see what humans have done to this world and it makes me feel sick.

            Then I think of those animals out there, living day-to-day with their only real concern being to find food and not become it. Their days aren't divided into thirds where they have eight hours to sleep, eight hours to work and a final eight hours to eat, get ready for work, travel to and from work, do housework and maybe, if there’s a bit of time left over, do something they enjoy.

            Sure, we humans have all these great conveniences, but all the work we have to do in order to keep and maintain them kind of takes away from our time to actually live our lives. Not to mention the destruction of the planet. If we’re really so smart and great, shouldn't we be maintaining and nurturing the planet rather than tearing it to pieces?

            Animals live their lives, eating when they are hungry, sleeping when they are tired and doing essentially whatever they want (except when they’re the ones being eaten). Meanwhile, humans work and work and work so they can work some more and have a few conveniences.

            Are we really all that superior?

Click here to find the charity anthology containing a couple of my short stories.

If there's any subject you'd like to see me ramble on about, feel free to leave a comment asking me to do so.