My Pet Desert Tarantula, My Princess Was Really A Prince
By Brooke Bessesen
Arizona Desert Tarantula. © Michael WitfallArachnophobes Anonymous. The fear of spiders is a powerful thing. I was arachnophobic for 30 years, long enough to be good at it (after all, a sound, well-rooted neurosis requires time to seep into every ounce of one's being to be considered at all respectable). Like many people, I grew up loving "normal" animals - the kind that kept their leg count under eight - and ultimately I went on to work with animals professionally.
Through the years, I managed my little spider problem nicely until fate forced my hand. I accepted a position at the zoo as the on-camera naturalist where my duties would include making local and national television appearances with animals. I was very excited about the job until, as I perused the list of species I could be called on to handle, my eyes came to a screeching halt on the most frightening word in an arachnophobe's vocabulary. Tarantula.
Tarantulas belong to the family Theraphosidae, with species found around the globe, particularly in tropical, subtropical and desert regions. Generally considered enormous, as spiders go, adult tarantulas vary significantly in size, with some species reaching impressive leg spans. They are capable afoot, and formidable fangs offer substantial head-on protection. Plus, many New World tarantulas (those in the Americas) have additional defense equipment in the form of urticating hairs on the top of their abdomens. These tiny barbed setae can be flicked loose with the tarantula's hind feet, irritating an intruder's eyes and skin. Details like these seemed reasonable grounds for an aversion to mammoth spiders, but one undeniable fact remained: I needed to be able to hold one and look ok about it.
There was no time to waste. I simply couldn't bear my colleagues thinking of me as a wimp. I needed a private, accelerated program to overcome my fear and free me from its wicked grip, so I made a bold decision and bought a pet tarantula (the common desert species native to Arizona, scientifically called Aphonopelma chalcodes) and named her Princess.
Once I got Princess home, I had a bit of difficulty transferring her into her new glass enclosure, decorated nicely, I might add, with a bed of microwaved peat moss, and I agonized for several hours more before I cautiously stuck my hand in to touch her. Luckily, she was very calm and didn't seem bothered by my advances.
Eventually, I was holding her - weeks later even enjoying it. I admit that sometimes I had to grit my teeth when the heebie-jeebies threatened to get the best of me, knowing even a short fall can break the outer surface of a spider's body called the exoskeleton and prove fatal. But amazingly, over time, Princess' gentle nature and absolutely fascinating behavior captured my interest and my heart, spurring me to become even better educated about tarantulas.
Like all spiders, a tarantula has two main body parts: the cephalothorax and the bulbous back section called the abdomen. Its heart, digestive and reproductive systems labor internally, along with book lungs and silk glands that secrete strands of silk through delicate spinnerets on the arachnid's hind end. Looking closely, a tarantula also sports two retractable claws per foot that aid it in climbing, as well as gaining traction on the ground. It's true that tarantulas are venomous, although the venom of Arizona desert tarantulas is generally not considered medically significant to humans. Many are relatively docile, using their venom primarily to subdue prey such as insects and other arthropods, and occasionally small lizards.
For several years, I handled Princess on and off camera and she became a true ambassador for her species. At educational programs, she walked on the hands of dozens of anxious, open-minded children (and a few gutsy parents, some of whom I'm sure I heard mumbling, "Find a happy place...") and I watched her ballerina charm work wonders!
Then one summer, Princess went into her burrow for her annual molt, the process of shedding her exoskeleton in order to grow. The next day, I was astonished to open the cage and find a thin black male with long legs and mating spurs. "Prince." Yes indeed, as it turned out - she was a he.
Female Arizona desert tarantulas can live more than 20 years, so we expected to have Princess a long time. Males, however, have much shorter lives. Young males resemble females until reaching sexual maturity, when a final molt reveals their longer-legged adult form and mating structures. Mature males then leave their burrows in search of females, and their remaining lifespan is comparatively short.
Denial cushioned my brain until, at summer's end, I found Prince dead, his legs curled in, no longer held outstretched by the fervent pumping of his heart. My sweet spider had slipped away and as I picked up his limp body, I found my heart breaking in the same way I had felt it break for the other wonderful pets that I had to say good-bye to. It's not easy to face death, but I never expected to feel such sadness at the passing of a spider.
I like spiders now and I am grateful to have come so far. The mind is a big place with lots of room for crazy thoughts about little things... like spiders.
Hi, my name is Brooke and I'm a recovered arachnophobe.
"Hi Brooke!"
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Despite my positive experience, I strongly discourage the keeping of tarantulas as pets. They are extremely fragile and require the owner to have abundant knowledge to thrive. They can also deliver a severe bite and offer a fraction of the joy and interaction that a dog or cat can provide.
Arizona Animals
