Please be warned that there are images of spiders in this article.
My dad had a spider in his shower for months and he named it Boris, and when one day the spider was no longer there, he seemed genuinely upset. It seems they'd formed quite a bond. I must have inherited his befriend-a-spider gene because I rather like them, like having them around the house. They're my household security against other pests. When I see occupied corners and windowsills I consider the room well fortified because nothing stands a chance against them. They're beautifully efficient, wonderfully evolved.
But not everyone likes them, you might be surprised to hear. When I try to tell my girlfriend it's good to have them around she doesn't seem to understand. "Can you get rid of it? Don't pick it up!" She doesn't even care if it's a house spider and it's supposed to live here! She wants it evicted, how heartless. Mind you, one did crawl across the duvet onto her neck so I suppose that's a contributing factor.
