I found a big rabid wolf spider in my garage. A rabid wolf spider looks different than a regular wolf spider, but it isn't dangerous. It just has a bad-ass name. It would have been cooler if the one in my garage had been alive, but at least it was nicely dried out, thanks to the recent lack of rain. Then, this morning, there was a tiny spider on my hand while I was in the shower. I instinctively shook it off, and it landed in the water. I tried to save it, but it drowned. It was a baby rabid wolf spider. But I doubt there was only one baby spider around, so I am happy to know that they are living in and around my house. (I don't think B feels the same way)
My mom always said that spiders in the house are good luck.
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The name of this creature must surely have been designed to inspire maximum fear. I mean really, "rabid wolf spider"? Three words, each of which is pretty darn scary by itself. And only one of them is actually descriptive of the creature.
And consider the size of this beast. Even if you changed its name from the horrid "rabid wolf spider" to something more inviting (maybe "friendly sunshine spider"), the idea of a furry arachnid several inches across should be enough to make anyone feel a bit ancy.
And then consider that this spider doesn't just hang out in a web, waiting for food to fall into its mouth - it goes hunting. Like some kind of eight-legged Chuck Norris, it creeps along through the night, just looking for someone or something to kill.
You make it sound very cool. Before long everybody will want one.
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