“Don't grumble! Don't stew!
Some critters are much-much,
Oh, ever so much-much
So muchly much-much more unlucky than you!”
When we decided to move to Texas, I often heard concern over the
critters. 'Aren't you afraid of the snakes, scorpions, and
tarantulas?' 'Watch out for snakes, scorpions and tarantulas!' 'How is Zoey going to play outside with all the snakes, scorpions and tarantulas?' It
seems people have the image that every square foot of Texas is covered
in these buggers all ravenous for human flesh, but I'm here to tell you,
it is not.
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| courtesy of Texananreview.com |
Ever since I've moved to Texas, I've kept an eye out for these buggers, simply so I can check them off my 'cool experiences list'. If you know anything about my siblings and I, you know that we don't shy away from the creepy and crawlies, in fact we love 'em, so I've been looking for my bragging rights.
The rattle snakes have alluded me, although my neighbors had one under their deck, killed it, and let Zoey play with one of the two skins it had shed while living in their shed and eating the mice (
a community service if you ask me). I think I saw a scorpion from a distance in the Kingdom Hall, but a brother squashed it before I could get a good look or picture.
Lastly is the tarantula. This critter had alluded me too for some time, although Karlie was privileged with two sightings. I had researched the
Texas Brown Tarantula, and although it is poorly named since it is sometimes brown, black, or a combination of the two, I felt I could identify it.
Sunday evening back from Corpus Cristi, Karlie and I were recovering from our long drive back, (by sitting more of course), when Zoey runs in. "Mom, I found a tarantula! I just know it's a tarantula because it's huge!" We ran outside to find a mid-sized Texas Brown Tarantula in the middle of the yard, surrounded by Zoey, a couple neighbor kids, and their squeamish mom.
I poked it with a stick and it scurried. I poked it again and it scurried. This was a good sign, no aggressive behavior, i.e. front legs in the air. My neighbor, surely fearful of it's plots find it's way into her house and eat her face in her sleep, threatened to try and maneuver her car to run it over, so I decided it needed saving; after all who else is going to eat the cockroaches? I may be adventuruous, but I'm drawing the line there.
I carried it on the stick to the edge of the field and it still seemed docile, so I decided to try and hold it (
of course). I put my hand to the ground, as if I know exactly what I'm doing, and coaxed the spider toward my hand. It quickly scurried across my hand and up my arm!
Aaaahhh!! I swept the little guy onto the ground as if it's his fault that I chose to hold him and he should know exactly where he is and isn't allowed to be. Again with the stick; slowly, slowly, then...
scurry across my hand. Shaking the willies off, I managed to calm my nerves and convince him to move slowly into the palm of my hand despite the fact he was now attempting to hide in the brush. I could barely feel it's weight and the touch of it's tiny legs. As long as it wasn't scurrying, it was easy to hold, though I was afraid with it's speed it would find it's way once again heading toward my face; or I would drop it and shatter one of it's tiny legs. After a little coercion and minor bullying I talked Karlie into a brief holding and then we let the little creature go into the field behind my house.
If you ask me, I think the Texas critters and many creepy crawlies have got a bum rap. If you are ever so privileged to see one, take some time and research it; you might just find they're not so scary.
