The Sum of All Fears

Over the course of my career, I've had a few scary moments.  I've found myself in a relatively small cage with a black bear that had figured out how to open the door to his shift pen.  I've had an angry Andean condor take a chunk out of my arm.  I've launched myself onto a 12-foot anaconda... only to realize that none of my colleagues had followed suit and were hanging in the background.  Lots of scary moments, more than a few painful ones, and endless gross ones (like washing spider money diarrhea out of my hair).

I'd rather relive all of these experiences, played over and over again on a loop, than have to pick up a goliath birdeater in my bare hands.

It's irrational.  I know.  Goliath bird-eating spiders aren't particularly venomous, and the pain of their bite is due more to their large size than their toxins.  That being said, as often as I see them in zoos, I've never even heard of anyone being bitten by one, and they're said to be fairly docile.  Still, the thought nauseates me.  I don't mean the species any ill will.  I'm always happy to see one on the other side of the glass at a zoo.  If I were to see one in the wild - provided it was a little distance away and didn't catch me by surprise - I'd never dream of harming it.  But if someone held a vile of acid in one hand and the spider in the other and said, I'm going to pour one of these over your head... well, I'd probably have a pretty gnarly looking haircut right about now.

And you know something?  I really am ok with my feelings about the spider.  It's okay not to love (or even like) all animals.  I absolutely love snakes, and it makes me so sad when people harm them unnecessarily, especially when they brag about it like they did something heroic in chopping up a six-inch DeKay's snake (a harmless little slug-eater).  But I accept that some people just can't stand the sight of them, and the thought of touching them would be abhorrent.  So I let them be.

I've reluctantly made peace with the tarantula tribe over the years, and have taken care of a few specimens as part of my job.  I've even held some before, albeit not with any sense of pleasure or comfort (it's been years since I've held a tarantula, though, and now I wonder if I'd be able to do it now, or if I'd have to work up the nerve slowly and relearn to conquer the fear all over).  But I think the big guy (or gal, more likely) will always be a bridge too far for me.  And I'm ok with that.  Somethings are best admired from a distance.  Or through glass.