Peggy Dover

Did you miss me? I missed you. It was lonely in the fogbank, but this new berth feels mighty fine, and I believe we’re in good hands with a capable captain. Thank you to all the faithful readers who let me know you missed the column. For those who may be unfamiliar with my columnar ways, I’ll try to ease you in slow-like, but I’m pretty ecstatic, and when that happens, so can anything. This story is an example. It’s all true, I swear.

One morning during bass guitar practice I was using an exercise called spider crawls, which reminded me of a friend we shall call Charlotte. She was an avowed arachnophobe determined to overcome. It started with jumping spiders in her yard, which became intolerable. This woman is a retired military nurse. She appears normal on the outside. But she decided to confront her fear of spiders by collecting them as pets.

The only thing odder than paying for spiders when they send you into fright spasms is being a spider-challenged person asking to see them for a story. I did it for you’s guys, OK?

First, I got my bicycle helmet, heavy boots and a muzzleloader. I felt my skin begin to prickle when I knocked on the door. Would one answer? Charlotte assured me they were safely behind Plexiglas, but we’ve all been to the movies.

She took me into a spare room — theirs. She pulled back the curtains shrouding shelves of numerous small cages, and a shiver ran through me and out the window. I was tempted to follow.

“These are all babies,” she said. “Except for Diamond.” I didn’t see anything among their shrubbery until she pointed out Diamond’s hairy legs. “Oh, yeah.” I brushed at my shoulders and head. Most of these cages, I soon realized, contained big, hairy tarantulas.

“This is the rarest baby that I have. I call her Rosa. She’s a Mexican Pink. They are actually trying to keep them from going extinct. When she grows up, her legs will be pink,” Charlotte explained. The fact that Rosa would someday blossom into the shade of cotton candy did nothing to eliminate the horror.

“They’re peaceful little critters,” she continued. “This is Peaches. She’s a jumping spider baby. This is a big day for Peaches, because she has caught her own cricket. She’ll eat that big meal and then she’ll probably molt. They’re just as cute as can be.” Uh, huh. Yeah.

Then I met Lady Gaga, described as beautiful and a bit wild. She looked plenty big from where I stood, but Charlotte said she was a juvenile.

“This variety can get up to 7-1/2 inches diagonally. She’s definitely hunting because I never see her out. There’s a tropical roach she likes. I’m raising those.”

So, not only did this woman have 12 resident spiders, but tropical — as in big — roaches somewhere.

“I only have New World spiders. They have a mild venom but they have these hairs on their butt that they can flick if they get upset.”

I did my best to remain calm and wondered if Lady Gaga could detect spider-fearing pheromones.

Daphne is one honkin’ spider. She’s a green bottle blue tarantula, and Charlotte’s first. Daphne cost $300 online. She has striking blue legs, a bulbous body, and she’ll live about 14 years, like a dog. Coco the Brazilian tarantula was the largest, and I reminded myself to breathe.

Charlotte takes her hobbies seriously.

“I watched everything on YouTube. I did six months of research.”

She’s become attached and says they have distinct personalities, but she will not touch them. She moves them when necessary by using a paint brush to gently herd them into a new enclosure.

“Getting over my arachnophobia was huge,” she said. “When I got the first one I couldn’t even sleep at night. Now that I know more about them, I realize they all have a part to play. That’s the appreciation I’ve learned.”

Sleep well (and support local news). Like Joni said, you don’t know what you got ’til it’s gone.