Taking Candy from a Baby...

... but it wasn't exactly easy.

I've been keeping a close watch on my American house spider, Achearanea tepidariorum. She is still guarding those eggs, and not moving very far afield.

Except one night a week and a half ago. I went out about 10:30 to check on her; the male was still up near the ceiling in his usual place*, but she was far down the wall, and moving fast. I shone my flashlight in the direction of her travel, and there was a third spider, a small one about the size of the male. "My" female (let's call her Fat Momma, or FM, for convenience) was making dashes in its direction, stopping, backing up a pace or two, and then running forward again. The intruder held its ground until FM was less than a foot away, then it backed around the corner, out of sight. FM went back to her eggs.

Two days later, the little intruder was building a rickety web between the wall and a post, just out of FM's line of sight. The same type of web, so I gathered that it was also a house spider, whether male or female I couldn't tell yet. It caught a good-sized fly that first day.

By the end of last week, she was fat enough that I could tell she's a female, still immature. Let's call her Chica.

Backtracking: a few evenings earlier, I had seen and photographed this tiny beetle. A couple of shots only; when I went out in daylight, it had left.


But last Friday, it turned up in Chica's web.

All wrapped up.

I was trying for a close-up, when I saw that it was still moving.


Chica's back is turned, and Beetle is waving. Help!

Ok; it's just a beetle. Spider dinner. Probably already dying. At least anaesthesized. Doesn't feel a thing. But still, it felt bad to watch it wave there, and to pack away the camera and go about my business.

I did the rounds after dark that night. Chica was working away at the beetle's abdomen, shaking and vibrating, as if trying to drill through that hard exoskeleton. I left her to it.

The next afternoon, I checked on them again. Chica had what looked to be a smaller spider, and was busy at it, with her back to me. And Beetle: oh, horrors! What was Beetle doing?


Very much alive. Arms and legs moving. Running in space. Almost looks human, there.

I couldn't stand it; I cut Beetle down, and brought him inside. He was snugly bound, but squirming steadily. With a paintbrush and a tiny hook, I tried to remove some of the webbing, but I couldn't make any progress. That spider glue is good stuff.
I left poor Beetle to die in a plastic cup and didn't come back until past midnight. And he was still struggling, slowly and weakly. I wetted the webbing down and tugged at it again; some of it came free. Beetle lay still, but started to move again as soon as I stopped. What to do?



I put him on a damp napkin with the plastic cup inverted over him, just in case he managed to move around, and went to bed, telling myself I was crazy to be trying to help a beetle. A beetle, for Pete's sake! Forget it; he'll be dead in the morning. No big deal. Spider fodder.

In the morning, the cup was empty. Beetle was gone.

That felt good.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

*About that male. He's gone. Or eaten, probably.

And Chica has another beetle today. This time, she managed to kill it properly; I looked closely, and it isn't moving. And she has been feeding calmly. Not jack-hammering her way in, like last time.