I’m not sure what’s up with me lately, but I and the animal kingdom are not quite getting along. First, the day before I left for the MuseItUp Retreat, my cat, Ellie used my neck as a perceived ladder in her bid for freedom. She repeatedly tells me this wasn’t her fault, though.
Being half-Siamese and half-Egyptian Mau (black one on the left), Ellie can only take so much at the vet’s before she makes a break for it. She says her high-strung-edness has something to do with being related to Queen Cleopatera. That would be the half-Egyptian part, I’m thinking. Ellie says you can’t have a relative who got bit on the asp without inheriting a very sensitive nature, no matter how long ago it was. Anyway, I go back to the doctor on Monday to check the remnants of the Cat Scratch Fever. I still have a little lumpy scar on my…ahem…double chin from that episode. I mean, enough already. I’m only one person.
Then and excuse me all to pieces for being annoyed over this, several days ago I got bit by a spider. This renegade spider hid inside the sleeve of my big shirt, inside my closet, inside my bedroom and then had the unmitigated gall to attack me, totally unprovoked. By the time this vile hooligan found a piece of unprotected skin — I wore this big shirt over a blouse — I was at a 1-day retreat at a friend’s house, walking down the street on a break, and minding my own business. Then YOWSER! I mean the inside of my lower arm felt the mighty jaws of this monster. I ripped off the shirt and there it was still clinging to inside the sleeve! At first I thought it was a bumble bee but I saw it was a large black and white spider, now drawn up into himself. I let out a scream, tossed the shirt away and the spider flew into the bushes.
With a burning and swelling arm, I ran into my friend’s house looking for anti-snake venom, Benadryl, and sympathy. What I got was, did you save the spider?
Now come on, folks. When you see something the size of a bumble bee inside your shirt sleeve the last thing on your mind is to save this sucker for posterity. And at least 50% of the people I told this story to – and most had spider bite tales – said to me, did you save the spider? No, no, and no!! Get over it, NO.
On reflection, I could tell by the looks of it, it wasn’t a Brown Recluse (got bit by one of those 5 years ago, thank you so much) or a black Widow (never bitten; let’s keep it that way). And while I still have a burning, itching red mark, most of the swelling has gone down now. The consensus is in. I will live.
However, maybe I shouldn’t leave the house for awhile. This is deer breeding season and as we all know, things tend to happen in threes. That’s all I need is to be kicked in the shin by a rambunctious doe on her way to meet the buckaroo of her life. I mean, enough already.