I am busy doing an autumn clean. It is a fairly rigorous one. The tops of doors are dusted, and the bottom of curtains are lifted.
You never know what lurks above or below. I hum whilst I work. Then I jump back.
Because peering out from behind the kitchen drapes is the most enormous spider.
No, really, he is huge. With a great fat body, a menacing face, and, most likely, a giant set of jaws.
Now I am not afraid of spiders. Honestly. And I never kill one. Because that’s bad luck.
The trick is to get a tissue and put the thing gently outside. But this time…
I call the MacNaughties. The oldest one, in particular, has dealt with a few insects in his time.
I am counting on Barra the Cocker Spaniel, to help me out. But our elderly hound takes one look and retreats to his bed.
Perhaps he has become too tired to bother. More likely he has decided that discretion is the better part of valour.
The chief is then summoned. And he, too, peeps behind the curtain – and chickens out.
Here to stay
‘Oh, I’d just leave him to his domestic arrangements. He’s not doing anyone any harm…’
So, there we are. An eight-leggd monster has taken up residence in my home. And he is not to be moved.
I look again – and there he is. Great long legs stretched across the floor. I am sure those beady eyes are watching every move.
False widow or not?
Should we worry? I find a nature site on the web. And there I learn that out of the six hundred or so species of spider in this country, only a handful are actually dangerous.
Among them is the small but poisonous False Widow. Now, he can be found in Scotland. Jet black and with a white marking on his tummy, he likes to come out when temperatures soar.
This is not a False Widow. This squatter is too big. Plus, the weather is not that warm.
Trip to Perth
I put it to the back of my mind. Because we are preparing to travel up to the Fair City.
Yes, if you have a four-legged friend, Perth is the place to be this Sunday.
Paws at the Palace is aimed at Scotland’s dog lovers. We attended the first one, back in 2019 – and now there is a re-run.
Paws at the Palace
Two years ago, we went to Scone with our beloved and much-missed Rummie.
And he had the best day. Barking at other dogs and getting wee treaty bits on his way round the grounds.
Back then hundreds of folk brought their four-legged friends.
Travelling in style
Some coming in style in motorcycle baskets. Others choosing the traditional way. On a lead and on foot.
This time we are taking Bennie the naughty Norfolk Terrier puppy.
It is one way of getting him used to crowds and other dogs. Wish us luck. I’ll let you know how we get on…