My cat, Wilbur, is on my "bad cat" list. While I was getting ready for work, he was sprawled almost flat on the floor his nose to the crack under the door to the closet under the steps. I figured he'd seen a spider crawl in there and I wasn't about to check it out. I don't do spiders. **shudder** So, I ignored him and went into the bathroom to get read for work. I remembered that I hadn't put the white clothes in the dryer, so I headed across the hall to take care of that. No Wilbur, although it didn't register at that point. After putting the clothes in to dry, I left the room and shut off the light.
Here comes Wilbur following on my heels. But then he slows down. I keep my eye on him and walk toward the bathroom. Wilbur now has his nose to the floor staring at the place where the floor and wall meet.
"Wilbur, are you chasing a bug?"
Wilbur looks at me and back to the floor. Uh-oh.
"Wilbur, you are supposed to catch them, not watch them. Go ahead and get the bug."
Promptly Wilbur looks at me as if, "Who are you to tell me what to do." Then he flips his tail, his incredibly long and fluffy tail, in the air and prances away and up the stairs. I look at the spot he'd been watching and saw...A SPIDER!!!! A black wolf spider not yet fully grown.
"Wilbur! You're supposed to KILL these things!"
Not Wilbur. He practically laughed at me. You know how cats get those smirky grins? Yeah. That's the one.
So, there I am. Standing in my terry wrap with pink terry slippers on my feet. How do I kill the spider, which by the way, is now staring at me with those beady green eyes daring me to try.
I look at my foot, look at the spider, and consider my options. If I press real hard, and move real fast, I might have a chance.
I raise my foot. The spider glares at me.
I stomp on the floor and pull my foot away real quick.
The spider moves closer to the wall. I swear it laughed at me, too.
Okay. My foot is a LOT bigger than that spider. The cat is snickering, now.
So, I go after that spider with all the strength in me. I stomp and rake my foot back and forth several times while the spider tries to elude me. I win!
Wilbur shakes his head and goes upstairs.
I look down in triumph and see one of those spider eyes shining in the light. **shudder**
That dreaded DEAD spider is still curled up in a ball on the floor.
I've got to get my husband, dubbed "spider killer" to take it away.
Wilbur, however, is not going to get his canned food for a week. That darned cat!
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