Truman had to pee. For once, he told me, rather than just lifting his little leg one inch and watering the inside of my house. I headed for the back slider to let him out, when I caught movement from the corner of my eye.
Above my kitchen table is a recessed light. From it, a spider was slowly dropping itself down...down...down...toward my cat, Lincoln, passed out on a placemat.
The spider swung gently in the air, and then I saw it - a very red spot in a sea of black, and a very large, very impregnated backside.
Shitshitshitshit where's the damn bug spray? shitshitshitshit
I threw open the cabinet underneath the sink and dug around. Trash can, 409, fire extinguisher. I hesitated, considering the wisdom of using a fire extinguisher to kill a black widow spider, especially when there would be a cat in between the spider and the extinguisher.
Common sense overrulled my panic, and I resumed my search. My darn father probably put the bug spray in my garage, next to the wasp killer and Ortho Home Defense. Sure enough, there it was. I grabbed it, hoping I wasn't too late.
I ran back into the kitchen, and saw the spider dangling inches above my snoring cat, oblivious to the danger that was about to befall itself right into his fluffy coat.
Crap, no time for bug spray. I set the can down hard on the counter and turned back to the cat. "Link, Link, wake up, MOVE."
The cat stirred, but returned to sleep.
"Sorry Linkie..."
I gripped the placemat he was asleep on, and dug my fingers into it. I took a deep breath, and yanked the placemat as hard as I could.
The spider dropped to the table. The cat flew several feet and bonked into the cabinet doors.
I killed the spider, cleaned up the carnage, and went to survey the collateral damage. Link wound around my ankles and looked up at me, his big green eyes gleaming: "That was fun! Let's do it again!"
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