A heart-racing true story, that just happened in my house:

“I think there’s a big-ass spider on the loose,” said the Snook.

Me: “How do you know?”

“Because he’s molted and his old shell’s hanging above the medicine cabinet.”

Me: “Oh neat! Go get a box and I’ll climb up on the toilet to take a closer look….”

“Uhhhhh… there’s too many legs. And… it’s still moving.”

We caught him mid-molt, it seems. The Snook returned with a bucket, and I carefully trapped him in it against the ceiling. The shock seemed to have shaken him loose from his old shell. He wasn’t happy.

Neither was the Snook.

We used a bit of plastic to cover the bucket, carried him to the door, and flung him (and his old shell) out into the garden. Thanks for the adrenaline, Mr. Spider! 👋🕷

THE END