Why the death of a spider reminded me of my mortality
- stephaniebulletin
- Aug 18
- 2 min read
By Edward A. Forbes
The Bulletin
As I walked out the front door, unconsciously checking on my pet spider, I spoke to her as I do each morning.
“Goldie, you haven’t been rebuilding your web as you normally do daily - are you O.K.?”
She waved her front two legs in response as is normal, but the web was a little tattered and loaded with small uneaten insects.
The next morning, I noticed she wasn’t resting on the writing part of her web, which is used like the string on a guitar to vibrate the smaller strands of web to further entrap casual visitors to the small strands of silk.
I had begun noticing more aberrant behavior by poor Goldie during the preceding week, progressing as the days passed. She had stopped rebuilding her web each day, as was the norm for a female Golden Orb Weaver Spider. One morning, she greeted me by hanging from a single silk thread at least a foot below her web. I gave her a boost back to the web, and she resumed her normal posture on the thick zig zags facing down, each leg stretched out, touching a different thread to the web.
The following morning, she was on her cluttered web but not on the zig zags but rather on the side of the web, and her legs were all curled up, almost arthritic-like, under her body.
Another morning came, and as I was starting my morning greeting, Goldie wasn’t on her web. She had fallen to the ground. I picked her up and tried to place her back on the web, but she lacked the strength to hold on and fell again.
Later that evening, I went outside to check on her, and she was gone. She was undoubtedly taken by a junior predator that normally would be her prey. I wish that I could have a spider autopsy to determine her Cause of Death. Why am I saddened by the death of a stupid spider?
In the short two-plus months Goldie had resided, I assume happily, by my front door, I had developed the habit of speaking to her each morning. She didn’t respond like a dog with unconditional love or like a cat with studied indifference or casual acceptance.
Nonetheless, like every pet owner, I had ascribed human characteristics to my pet spider, and perhaps her passing reminded me of my own mortality and that of all my friends and relatives. She touched a small chord of grief that I had ignored with recent passings.
Until we meet again, farewell, Goldie. I hope there is a pet heaven awaiting all our beloved family members.
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