The Saga of Percival

While my daughter and I were digging the trench for our water line, she came across a large wolf spider. She and this spider became acquainted and she decided his name was Percival.

In all honesty, I do not like spiders. Don't get me wrong, I appreciate spiders in that they eat bugs. I will not kill them without a good reason. However, I cannot completely overcome my reflexive shriek and cringe when one crosses my path.

Percival, however, was fairly charming for a big gross spider. He would scurry along the top of the trench and play in the freshly overturned dirt. When the dirt at the top of the trench was no longer interesting, he'd leap into the trench...


                                  

... and he'd start digging in the dirt at the bottom of the trench.

                                 


Then he'd climb up the side and start the whole process over. He was indeed quite the charmer... for a giant revolting spider.

As I continued digging I see a flash of bright orange. Turning, I see a large wasp with a deep blue body and orange wings pulling an incapacitated Percival down the side of the trench.

                                     

Now, I've seen enough Animal Planet to know exactly what happened. That was a spider wasp. That was one of nature's great horror shows. You see, spider wasps don't just kill their eight legged prey. Oh, no. When one of these flying sociopaths stings its victim, the spider is only paralyzed. It is then taken to the wasp's lair where it is left with a single wasp egg laid on its abdomen. When the egg hatches, the poor unfortunate arachnid is eaten alive.

                                              

Oh, but we're not done yet. Eating its prey alive isn't enough. Somehow the larva knows how to eat around the vital organs until the very end, keeping the spider alive as long as possible.

You're welcome for the nightmare fuel.

                                       

Just to add to how charming these bugs are, they also pack the second most painful sting of any insect. We owe this knowledge to Justin O. Schmidt, the man that gave us the Schmidt pain scale. It seems that prior to his research scientists had no official rating on insect stings outside of, "meh," "ouch," and "HOLY MOTHER OF A TAP DANCING TURD BUCKET THAT HURT." Now thanks to one man subjecting himself to all manner of stinging insects, we have simple convenient numbers to assign to pain levels.

Thanks Justin O. Schmidt.

Knowing the fate in store for our spidery friend put me in a quandary. I had grown rather fond of the big gross fellow and I hated to see him become larva chow. On the other hand, this is how nature works and it's not really my place to interfere.

So, I watched the wasp carry him down the trench and back up the other side.

Now, I'm no insect scientist so I don't know how spider wasp venom works. However it was supposed to work on Percival, well, it didn't. He went from being all curled up and stiff to an octopedal Mike Tyson. Epic wasp-spider battle ensued.

That settled my dilemma. That little guy had charm and personality. Somehow he managed a successful saving throw against a powerful foe, and dammit, I was stepping in. I grabbed my shovel, broke up the fight...


                          

                          

                         

... and Percival wandered off to spider another day.