The good news is that James is mobile, enthusiastically so.
The bad news is that James is still toddler-clumsy and the edge of a coffee table hurts, even if you’re less than two feet tall and trip. Still, he’s a toughie: He cried for less than 60 seconds and then was off and running again.
The other night Jenn woke me from a sound sleep to go look at this creature in the garage. She had been doing laundry and looked up and saw this “huge spider” crawling on the wall. I sleepily confirmed it wasn’t a spider and was harmless (thanks, believe it or not, to reading a Dungeons & Dragons adventure when I was in middle school — oh, Gary Gygax, your influence extends in so many directions) and went back to bed.
We apparently have these solifugids breeding somewhere nearby. We found a beaten-up one inside, and didn’t know if it was a scorpion or what. Last night, I figured out what was happening: Dainty little Hanna, who sits politely on the back porch when we let the cats go outside, is bringing them in from the garage to torture and kill.
They’re harmless, and pose no danger to James or the cats (or Jenn). They sure are creepy-looking, though. Ours don’t have the large mandibles that camel spiders have, but are about three to four inches long, including their 10 thick legs.
I’m guessing that Hanna will have cleaned all of them out before the Orkin man next comes around to keep the black widow population from coming back.
