Summoned to the Fish’s desk with a “come to my table NOW!!! big spider”, I fetched an empty specimen tube and hopped across the hallway into the other room. I was expecting one of those huge jumpers, which constitute most of the S.O.S. cases around here. When I saw this one from afar, I promptly sprang back into my room to exchange the container for a bigger one.
It was a biggish, brownish spidey. Fat, furry spidey.
A mygalomorph!
Unlike the other large, brown, hairy spiders which are often mistaken by the layperson as tarantulas, this is the real deal, a spider from the family Theraphosidae. (The task of further classification - Phlogiellus sp.? Selenocosmia sp.? - is best left to the experts.)
She was crouched on the ground with her legs curled up against her body. Hardly active; lethargic, even, and unresponsive to the touch. It seemed, and as was the case, that her hours were numbered. A pity, for she was a beautiful creature, a sight sought after by many in the country, a representation of the celebrated yet little-known denizens of our wilder areas, living their lives in burrows, their biology still shrouded in mystery.
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