Years ago I am eating dinner with my family, minding my own business when the boy next door rings the bell. He is about 9 and there is no dad in the picture so I guess I was the one he thought of. He tells me his tarantula got loose and wanted me to help catch him. Even though I hate spiders I was going to try to help him.
He had chased the tarantula in MY garage (which had just been cleaned and was pretty much empty to make way for a camper). I opened the garage door and spotted this VERY agitated and large spider. It was bigger than my hand, standing on its back legs and snapping his fangs. I tried to approach a few times and he jumped toward me and I quickly retreated.
No way was I getting near enough to capture this thing; No way was I leaving it in my garage. I send the youngster home telling him I will bring him the spider after it calms down, and call for the Dallas, Texas phonebook. I got about 5 feet from the spider and launched the phone book at him. Direct hit, just to make sure I walk over and stomp the hell out of the phone book.
I clean up the mess and report to the trustful youth the tarantula ran out of the door, but maybe he will come back home when he gets hungry.
A few weeks later I buy him a gardener snake.
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