As I have mentioned (possibly ad nauseam, but don’t worry, it’s going to get a lot worse shortly) our wee friends, male jumping spiders that come inside in mid and late summer and wander endlessly and unsuccessfully looking for luurrrrve.
I used to wonder what happened to them – did they wander outside again? You never seemed to see the same one for more than a few weeks at a time.
Well, wonder no longer. Look at this fellow. It’s the very common Daddy Long-Legs spider, Pholcus phalangioides. If you have any in your house, and chances are if you live below 45° in either hemisphere you do, then you’ll know that they don’t usually look this, er, bloated.
So one of our wee friends that come inside had been cruising the ceiling (nope, no ladeez here), getting slower (noo laadeeez…) and slower (stiiill… noooo… laaadeeeez…) as the days went on. He must have stumbled into the Pholcus’s killzone, because Bella and Rosa noticed him caught in its jaws. There he remained, dead and queasily (for us) suspended while being sucked dry.
Fast forward to tonight, and he’s gone: his neatly packaged husk falling onto the bench below.
And that Pholcus will be meeting the vacuum cleaner tomorrow. It and its kin, in a local and windy genocide.