Large Fierce Mammal

Octavia enjoying some down time, as much as Spiders can enjoy anything. (LFM photo)

Tonight’s Dark Sentiment is a story of rivalry, violence, voyeurism, and post coital carnage.

It began on the night of the first day of September this year when I was entering my porch and a flurry of movement to my left caused me to pause and investigate. The movement was two male “Cross Orb Weaver” Spiders (Araneus diadematus) engaged in what appeared to be a territorial dispute. One was facing up the wall, the other down, and the one uppermost kept charging in only to end up, after a brief flurry of blows, retreating back the way he’d come. The lower spider seemed unwilling to move far from his position and only after observing the attacking contestant making at least a dozen passes at the defender did I realize why — a female of their tribe was hunkered down in a corner under the clapboards not far behind Mr. Stand Your Ground, feigning indifference.

Yes, it was that kind of fight.

The fray showing no sign of ending soon, and having more pressing matters involving the outcome of my own mating pursuits to attend to, I left them to it. By morning, the female was still in the same position, the defender now poised very close to her, still facing out as though standing guard. Of the other contender there was no sign. Victory, of sorts.

You see, I knew something he didn’t know (spoiler >>>here<<<).

And so it came to pass that I found his corpse in her larder a few days later. Not having observed their actual copulation, I have no idea when it got there, but I stand witness to how hard he worked for it. As for Octavia (not her real name), she hung poised and resplendent, head down in the middle of her freshly woven web, the day I formally introduced myself and pointed her out to Mrs. LFM. Her Spiderness didn’t take it at all well, and even with my pointing finger two feet away, the spirited minx canted her body in my direction, raising both foremost legs in that manner bespeaking “GFY” which, for clarity, does not mean “Good For You”.

As of tonight’s writing, Octavia is still out there, nightly setting up shop not far from the outside porch light that I leave on for her convenience. She’s never there long before something tasty gets attracted by the light into her web. And she’ll keep doing that until she lays her last clutch of eggs, and the frost kills her. Hopefully in that order.