To Kill or Not to Kill?

Should I kill the spider inching across my table? I sat in a dilemma. I hated insects in my home. And it would be easy to swat it, an instant solution. But as I looked at the little fellow, I remembered Rosie, a tarantula ambassador at a nature exhibit outside Denver, Colorado. With rose-tinted beige furry legs and body, and the handler’s word that she couldn’t sting or bite me,  Rosie glowed, the cuddliest spider imaginable and I wanted to hold her. Rosie seemed comfortable with the handler, Stephanie; both relaxed with each other. But when Stephanie tilted her arm toward mine in a signal for Rosie to walk onto my hand, the spider backed up instead, hesitant. As an introvert, I empathized. I’m also reluctant to step toward strangers. My meditation teachers, two Tibetan monks, regularly taught me to have sympathy for all creatures which helped me overcome shyness with humans and wildlife, some of whom seemed interchangeable at times.

After a few more arm tilts and encouraging words from Stephanie, Rosie slowly complied and I felt her tender fuzzy feet on the back of my hand. Thrilled, I savored Rosie’s eight tiny footsteps repeatedly tapping like feathers on my skin. 

I murmured, “Hi, Rosie. You’re so soft and beautiful. Thank you for visiting me.”

Rosie performed her ambassador job like a professional, going a few inches up my forearm, giving me a fine tarantula visit. When my time was up, I tilted my arm in Stephanie’s direction. At this prompt, Rosie quickly scampered toward its friend, seemingly overjoyed. Rosie’s body language appeared so clear, I felt compassion well up in me, just as the Tibetan lamas had suggested could eventually happen. But, I never dreamed I’d sympathize with a giant, hairy spider.

Since my visit with Rosie, who was a perfect emissary for her kind, I could no longer kill her kin. I slid cardboard underneath the spider on my table until it crawled on. Then I gently carried it outdoors.



Cate Burns is the author of Libido Tsunami: Awash with the Droll in Life, in which she unearths the ludicrous in the emotional live traps surrounding us — in families, friends and disastrous romances. Get it on Amazon today.