The Little Spider That Soothed My Soul

​                     Books by Patti Liszkay available on Amazon:   
     "Equal And Opposite Reactions"      http://amzn.to/2xvcgRa
     "Hail Mary"                                           https://www.amzn.com/1684334888
     "Tropical Depression"                        https://www.amzn.com/B0BTPN7NYY

​The Little Spider That Soothed My Soul

     These are times that try folk’s souls. At least some folk’s souls. Probably the souls of at least 48.3% of the American population - you all know who you are and why - myself included.
       I've been trying to follow the counsel of that old Carol King song and to get up every morning with a smile on my face and show the world all the love in my heart. But some days I nonetheless find myself getting up in the morning and ruminating about what has transpired in this country and what might be the shape of things to come and instead of a heart full of love I face the day feeling like my soul is in the lost and found.
       And so I was feeling a couple of days ago. I was back in Los Angeles, where the sky was a balmy blue and the sun shone over the palm trees,

...along with the other lovely southern California flora and fauna that were in November bloom.

      However on that day after reading the morning news a blue-grey haze hung low over my spirit.
​        Such was my interior state when I went into the bathroom to take a shower and saw a tiny spider crawling around the floor of the tub. 

      What is it about spiders and bath tubs? If they insist upon crashing your property - though in truth, maybe it's us humans who are crashing their property - but anyway, if they must enter a human  domicile - and why would they even want or need to in Los Angeles, where the climate is warm and surely spider-friendly? - but if they must venture indoors, why must they inevitably head for your tub or shower space?
       I, for one, hate finding a spider in the tub or shower. Not because I hate spiders. But because I hate killing them. Seems the more my own lifespan contracts, the less I want to be the one to wantonly cut short the lifespan of any other creature - even a bug - who's not doing me any harm. 
       But a spider in a tub is a spider soon to be caught in a watery death spiral down the drain, as this one soon would be if I were to take my shower. Even if I forewent taking a shower for the sake of sparing the spider's life for a while, soon enough someone after me would want a shower, and even if no one else did, a spider can survive only so long on a porcelain tundra, and, though spiders have an ill-begotten tendency to find their way into tubs and showers, once in they can seldom manage their way out.
         So now, along with my current state of weltschmerz, I found myself faced with having to forego a shower or kill a spider in the process. Unless I saved the spider. Except that trying to rescue and relocate a tub-bound spider is a tricky, annoying, and not always successful endeavor. With an annoyed sigh I headed off to locate some spider-rescuing materials.
           I found a sheet of cardboard and a cup, figuring I would lure the spider onto the cardboard then trap him with the cup.

      However the spider, small and seemingly insignificant as he was, was apparently a sentient enough being that he knew that he was being pursued and was in danger. Each time I tried to entice him onto the cardboard he scurried away for his life. 

     I tried talking to the spider, telling him that I meant him no harm, quite the contrary, I was a friend who was trying to save him. But his misguided spidey sense was telling him otherwise while my annoyance and frustration grew. 
​     Finally I came up with a new tactic: instead of trying to trap him on the cardboard, I would rather try to lure him into the cup then quickly cover the cup with the cardboard:

      And it was this strategy that finally worked.       
      After trapping the spider in the cup, 

...I brought him out to the patio and set him free at the edge of the garden.

     The  last I saw of him he was crawling into the safety of the grass.

       And that's the end of the story; or almost the end.
       After the little spider disappeared into the grass I realized that my funk had disappeared with him and the trouble had lifted from my soul.
        I wish I could thank that spider for the kindness he did me that day.