August 31, 1978

A large spider, exhibiting all the attributes which we humans strive for, has taken up residence outside our north window in Varner. Her (How to tell a her from a he?) intelligence is beyond question. She spins her web across the window every evening so that when the lights in the house attract bugs she has a ready food supply.
Her artistic ability would embarrass Picasso. Not only does she create a beautiful and functional piece of art, she also creates her own medium.
Kindness, that most human of characteristics, is also displayed by this unlikely creature. When a moth which is too small to make a nourishing snack gets captured in her web, she will free it.
Showing astounding perserverance, she quickly repairs holes in her web, torn by the wind. Time after time she repairs with no sign of irritation or anger.
The single attribute she lacks is an attractive appearance. She has eight legs, and a large round body topped by two bulbous eyes. Certainly not the stuff of good dreams.
Looks aside, she is a creature that should be appreciated, even emulated. Yet, when we see one of her kin in the house we quickly put it out of our misery.
At the same time, we feed a cute dog expensive food, fondle it daily, and make certain it has all its life-continuing shots. For what reason? The dog is neither artistic nor intelligent. Its kindness consists of slobbering on anyone's hand.
Yesterday, after giving the dog a mound of vittles, we noticed the spider looking reproachfully down at us. We were so embarrassed we wrote this column.... ~T.Stucky