Flo

For the last few weeks I’ve had a companion when I take a shower. A rather aggressive female I named Flo.

Flo is a house spider of the type pictured above. She’s not poisonous and is not interested in biting me unless I try to mess with her. In fact, according to Wikipedia, she’s not a spider at all but a Pholcidae. But that’s semantics. She’s a spider to her wicked little heart.

Flo built a nice web right above the shower nozzle. She has been as unobtrusive as she possible can be–toward me.

Flies? That’s another thing. One time while reached for the shampoo, she spotted a fly on the window. That girl went after that fly with speed and deadly accuracy. You had to admire her. The girl’s got skills.

I know Flo is a girl spider because her husband’s legs are still hanging in her web. Like most arachnids, Flo’s idea of a honeymoon is to have her spouse for dinner. Literally.

I am not even thinking of killing her, as I have noticed a distinct drop in the number of flies hanging around the shower since she took up residency.

And, I am a Bruce. It is bad luck for a Bruce to kill a spider, ever since our great ancestor Robert the Bruce retreated into a cave after being beaten in battle by the English six times. He watched a spider try to spin its web six times, six times failing, then successfully compete the web on the seventh try. Robert took it as a sign he should meet the English one more time. That was the Battle of Bannockburn, in which he routed Edward II’s forces and won Scottish independence in 1314

So if Robert can be entertained by watching a spider in a cave, I, his very distant relative, can tolerate Flo in the shower.

As to how long Flo will stay, now that the supply of flies has dissipated, no one can say. I don’t want the poor girl to starve. I might move her outside with a glass cup to give her a new hunting ground.

After all, she’s gotta be tired of seeing a 68 year old man naked and wet.