A Petite Visitor
This morning, I showered, and then reached for the towel to dry myself. Then I placed the towel back on its hook.
It was then that I saw a spider at the edge of the tub.
I like spiders. So, I wished it no harm and turned away. A moment later I moved to the tub again and saw that the spider had fallen into the tub, and seemed — EEK! — to be drowning in a water puddle at the bottom.
Frantically, I grabbed some tissue, leaned into the tub, and very gently managed to get the spider onto an edge of the tissue.
Whew! Disaster averted.
I carefully laid the tissue on the edge of the window sill, and figured that the spider would, well, do whatever spiders do in the house.
Fast forward to tonight.
I stepped into the bathroom, noticed the tissue on the sill, and picked it up with the intention of throwing it into the garbage pail. But the spider fell out and onto the counter.
I was surprised, no, amazed, that the spider was still on the tissue, and assumed it was dead. So I gently nudged it with the tissue. It scurried!
And all I could think of was:
The poor dear! It had missed lunch!
The poor dear! It had missed dinner!
The poor dear! It had missed the cocktail hour!
This tiny creature had spent the day nestled on a bit of tissue, and after nearly drowning.
The poor dear.
I managed to get the spider back onto the tissue, and went outside and carefully placed the tissue in a bush. I figured the spider’s chance for survival was greater out than in.
As I stepped inside, I shook my head at the absurdity of all this but a part of me scolded my intellect. This part whispered: There’s a lot of cruelty in the world. But a small creature has been helped.
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