Ah Lee
Arachnosquire
- Joined
- May 30, 2020
- Messages
- 147
I recently found this forum, and I love this place so much. The amount of information and like-minded people here just makes it heaven for a critter-lover. You guys and gals rock!
It brought back memories of when I first started loving spiders, and I thought I'll like to share my story here if y'all are interested.
How it started
I grew up in a concrete jungle where most pets other than cats, dogs, hamsters, terrapins and fish are illegal. Yes, the laws make no sense, but my country has the habit of wanting to make everyone come out of the same mold. So if you don't like the normal, cute pets that other normal people do, you might as well be a criminal. Yet that was what I loved. As a kid I spent hours combing through bushes near my home searching for cool invertebrates. I would save my school money just to have enough for 2 cab rides (split among 3 friends), and we would sneak out of the house at midnight and take a cab to a hill which is one of the last bastions of nature in my country. We will sneak past the security guard, enjoy about 6 hours of natural bliss, and grabbed a cab back before our parents woke up. I was 10 then, with a rebellious streak, especially because my parents ruled me with an iron fist ( why do you think I had to 'sneak' to a nature reserve? My mom would rather me be studying. )
Learning about T's
When I was not out catching spiders and lizards, I was in the library reading books about reptiles, insects and arachnids. There weren't many books on that topic in my country. I would finish most of what I found interesting, and move on the the next library. I stumbled upon a book called Barron's Exotic Pets Handbook: A Family Guide to Buying, Caring For, and Breeding Unusual Pets. That was my first professional guide to actually keeping these pets, and I read that book over and over, wishing I had access to even one of these pets. Particularly one of the last pets they introduced, the Mexican Red Knee.
Finding my first T
Finding my first T wasn't easy, considering it was illegal in my country, and that was before the dawn of Google. I went around pet shops asking for help. Most of them thought I was just a crazy kid, a few stocked items like UV lamps and terrariums, but told me they do not sell exotic pets due to the laws and heavy fines. Finally one nice man told me of a shop that used to sell these, but were since raided by the authorities and have stopped selling exotics. I went down to the shop, and they owner pointed me in the direction of a smuggler who would get me what I wanted. He was easy in divulging that information, but probably because I was a 13 year old kid. But the having the contact to a person called a 'smuggler' just seemed so cool when you were 13. I called the person, ordered my first B.Smithi, and arrange to meet him at a hotel.
A HOTEL.
The plot thickens. My mind started racing with images of me handing a secret note to the receptionist. She would say "Carlos is expecting you" and ask me to get to the penthouse suite. I would knock on the door 3 times and someone would say "We didn't order room service!" and I'm supposed to reply "T-that's strange, s-someone ordered a whole p-pile of greens." An armed guard with an AK-47 would open the door, I will gingerly put $25 on the table and apologise for not using a briefcase because I can't afford one. Carlos will snap his fingers, cigar still in hand, and another armed guard would hand me a briefcase. I would mumble "thanks" and quickly make for the door, and just before I reach the handle I would hear the cocking of a gun behind me.
'Leave the briefcase, you cheapskate.', says Carlos. I leave it and scuttle out, barely escaping with my life.
Buying my first T
Of course, reality was much less exciting. I met the guy, who looked nothing like Mr. Carlos, and was actually a very normal-looking middle-aged man. He told me he was working as the IT guy in the hotel, and thanked me for making the trip down. He brought me to the server room, and opened a bag containing a whole bunch of deli cups with T's in them. It was a dream come true. It was my first time seeing a mygalomorph, but identified some of them quickly. He seemed genuinely pleased that I had such enthusiasm and knowledge as a kid, and I was just relieved he was not a Mr. Carlos, but someone who shared my love my spiders. He brought out the B.Smithi that I ordered, and it was... tiny. Yeah he told me it's a sling, but my kid imagination imagined tarantula slings to be pretty huge as well. I asked him about the nice orange sub-adult he had, which was just $5 more than the B.Smithi sling. He cautioned against me buying it, telling me it was not a good beginner's species and is very fast, and very angry. Still, against all advice, I told him I wanted it, fobbing him off with claims that I am great at handling dangerous invertebrates (a complete lie, but damn, that spider was pretty). He finally relented and sold me that spider instead and that, ladies and gentlemen, was my first tarantula : a Pterinochilus murinus. A.K.A Orange Bitey Thing.
Caring for my first T
Running home with shaking hands, I couldn't wait to rehome my new baby. All through the bus journey I was just watching it intensely, she seemed tame enough. Just sitting pretty amongst the mess of web tunnels she built. Still, I knew I had to be careful. I opened the box and prodded her gently with a stick. She moved. I prodded her somemore, trying to coax her into her new home, and she slowly spread her legs and started walking towards the opening. She was majestic and beautiful, it was the first time I saw a tarantula walking. It was not a scuttle like small spiders, but a graceful, queenly walk. She arrived at the lip of the box and hesitated, front legs waving in the air. I poked her again, and she disappeared. In a flash. Out the delicup, into the tank, out the tank, and under my table in barely a second. I was petrified. I moved everything out of the way but still couldn't find her. Judging by her speed, she's probably halfway to Africa by now. I dug around a little more and noticed a hole in the cable trunking on the wall for the air conditioner wires to run through. I ripped open the trunking and lo and behold, there she was huddled with the wires and looking much smaller than she did when she was walking. I grabbed a small fish net and tried to coax her out, and when she did, I quickly slapped the net on her, as she went full defensive and started attacking the net. Quickly sliding a cardboard between the net and the wall, I captured her and walked gingerly to her new cage holding the cardboard and the net. I threw everything: the net, the cardboard and the spider into the tank and quickly slammed it shut. Ta-dah! Rehoming done, EZPZ. The net never left her cage until a month later.
One thing led to another
Despite the fiasco that had been our first date, she thrived, and I was just fascinated by her. How she builds her web tunnels, how she feeds, how she moults and becomes a totally different spider. I kept in touch with the smuggler, who was a really nice guy and passed me a book called the Tarantula Keeper's Guide by Stanley A. Schultz when I met him to buy my second spider (a B. Smithi this time). He would always give me kid discounts, and invited me to watch when he was attempting to mate the T's. Fast forward to 20 years later, I am now that middle-aged man who still has a burning passion for spiders, albeit keeping them legally now because I am working in another country. My OBT has since passed away, but damn, I think she taught me more about T keeping than I ever learnt from books.
I expect your stories would be very different from mine, but post them up here, I would love to hear them please!
It brought back memories of when I first started loving spiders, and I thought I'll like to share my story here if y'all are interested.
How it started
I grew up in a concrete jungle where most pets other than cats, dogs, hamsters, terrapins and fish are illegal. Yes, the laws make no sense, but my country has the habit of wanting to make everyone come out of the same mold. So if you don't like the normal, cute pets that other normal people do, you might as well be a criminal. Yet that was what I loved. As a kid I spent hours combing through bushes near my home searching for cool invertebrates. I would save my school money just to have enough for 2 cab rides (split among 3 friends), and we would sneak out of the house at midnight and take a cab to a hill which is one of the last bastions of nature in my country. We will sneak past the security guard, enjoy about 6 hours of natural bliss, and grabbed a cab back before our parents woke up. I was 10 then, with a rebellious streak, especially because my parents ruled me with an iron fist ( why do you think I had to 'sneak' to a nature reserve? My mom would rather me be studying. )
Learning about T's
When I was not out catching spiders and lizards, I was in the library reading books about reptiles, insects and arachnids. There weren't many books on that topic in my country. I would finish most of what I found interesting, and move on the the next library. I stumbled upon a book called Barron's Exotic Pets Handbook: A Family Guide to Buying, Caring For, and Breeding Unusual Pets. That was my first professional guide to actually keeping these pets, and I read that book over and over, wishing I had access to even one of these pets. Particularly one of the last pets they introduced, the Mexican Red Knee.
Finding my first T
Finding my first T wasn't easy, considering it was illegal in my country, and that was before the dawn of Google. I went around pet shops asking for help. Most of them thought I was just a crazy kid, a few stocked items like UV lamps and terrariums, but told me they do not sell exotic pets due to the laws and heavy fines. Finally one nice man told me of a shop that used to sell these, but were since raided by the authorities and have stopped selling exotics. I went down to the shop, and they owner pointed me in the direction of a smuggler who would get me what I wanted. He was easy in divulging that information, but probably because I was a 13 year old kid. But the having the contact to a person called a 'smuggler' just seemed so cool when you were 13. I called the person, ordered my first B.Smithi, and arrange to meet him at a hotel.
A HOTEL.
The plot thickens. My mind started racing with images of me handing a secret note to the receptionist. She would say "Carlos is expecting you" and ask me to get to the penthouse suite. I would knock on the door 3 times and someone would say "We didn't order room service!" and I'm supposed to reply "T-that's strange, s-someone ordered a whole p-pile of greens." An armed guard with an AK-47 would open the door, I will gingerly put $25 on the table and apologise for not using a briefcase because I can't afford one. Carlos will snap his fingers, cigar still in hand, and another armed guard would hand me a briefcase. I would mumble "thanks" and quickly make for the door, and just before I reach the handle I would hear the cocking of a gun behind me.
'Leave the briefcase, you cheapskate.', says Carlos. I leave it and scuttle out, barely escaping with my life.
Buying my first T
Of course, reality was much less exciting. I met the guy, who looked nothing like Mr. Carlos, and was actually a very normal-looking middle-aged man. He told me he was working as the IT guy in the hotel, and thanked me for making the trip down. He brought me to the server room, and opened a bag containing a whole bunch of deli cups with T's in them. It was a dream come true. It was my first time seeing a mygalomorph, but identified some of them quickly. He seemed genuinely pleased that I had such enthusiasm and knowledge as a kid, and I was just relieved he was not a Mr. Carlos, but someone who shared my love my spiders. He brought out the B.Smithi that I ordered, and it was... tiny. Yeah he told me it's a sling, but my kid imagination imagined tarantula slings to be pretty huge as well. I asked him about the nice orange sub-adult he had, which was just $5 more than the B.Smithi sling. He cautioned against me buying it, telling me it was not a good beginner's species and is very fast, and very angry. Still, against all advice, I told him I wanted it, fobbing him off with claims that I am great at handling dangerous invertebrates (a complete lie, but damn, that spider was pretty). He finally relented and sold me that spider instead and that, ladies and gentlemen, was my first tarantula : a Pterinochilus murinus. A.K.A Orange Bitey Thing.
Caring for my first T
Running home with shaking hands, I couldn't wait to rehome my new baby. All through the bus journey I was just watching it intensely, she seemed tame enough. Just sitting pretty amongst the mess of web tunnels she built. Still, I knew I had to be careful. I opened the box and prodded her gently with a stick. She moved. I prodded her somemore, trying to coax her into her new home, and she slowly spread her legs and started walking towards the opening. She was majestic and beautiful, it was the first time I saw a tarantula walking. It was not a scuttle like small spiders, but a graceful, queenly walk. She arrived at the lip of the box and hesitated, front legs waving in the air. I poked her again, and she disappeared. In a flash. Out the delicup, into the tank, out the tank, and under my table in barely a second. I was petrified. I moved everything out of the way but still couldn't find her. Judging by her speed, she's probably halfway to Africa by now. I dug around a little more and noticed a hole in the cable trunking on the wall for the air conditioner wires to run through. I ripped open the trunking and lo and behold, there she was huddled with the wires and looking much smaller than she did when she was walking. I grabbed a small fish net and tried to coax her out, and when she did, I quickly slapped the net on her, as she went full defensive and started attacking the net. Quickly sliding a cardboard between the net and the wall, I captured her and walked gingerly to her new cage holding the cardboard and the net. I threw everything: the net, the cardboard and the spider into the tank and quickly slammed it shut. Ta-dah! Rehoming done, EZPZ. The net never left her cage until a month later.
One thing led to another
Despite the fiasco that had been our first date, she thrived, and I was just fascinated by her. How she builds her web tunnels, how she feeds, how she moults and becomes a totally different spider. I kept in touch with the smuggler, who was a really nice guy and passed me a book called the Tarantula Keeper's Guide by Stanley A. Schultz when I met him to buy my second spider (a B. Smithi this time). He would always give me kid discounts, and invited me to watch when he was attempting to mate the T's. Fast forward to 20 years later, I am now that middle-aged man who still has a burning passion for spiders, albeit keeping them legally now because I am working in another country. My OBT has since passed away, but damn, I think she taught me more about T keeping than I ever learnt from books.
I expect your stories would be very different from mine, but post them up here, I would love to hear them please!
