I walk into the kitchen to make my morning coffee and I am greeted by a four inch, long legged, thick bodied, swift wolf spider. That may not be their true genus and species, but I understand why they are called wolves. I quickly cover him with a heavy glass cake cover and finish prepping the coffeemaker. God knows, I need coffee to face this kind of day. The heavy glass dome frustrates the spider and torments my cats. Why not just squash him? Did I mention try are swift? If I attempt a squashing and miss, then I have an aggressive four inch spider headed right for me. I don’t really want that kind of adrenaline spike. The coffee will suit me just fine. I solve my dilemma by switching out the heavy glass cake cover that I cannot heave onto the front lawn for a piece of Gladware. I slide a clipboard underneath and Viola! I have Mr. Wolfie in a containment field at eye level. Now who’s the God? I open the front door and chuck the entire spider sandwich into the yard. I swear that spider turn and gave me the stink eye as if to say, “Next time, Woman.” I am not afraid of spiders. In fact, big spiders mean fewer bugs. And they come inside searching for water when its dry. You can’t live in Florida and not become accustomed to the creepy and the crawly. And somehow, it feels benevolent to remand Mr. Wolfie to the outdoors. I didn’t squish him and for that he should be thankful. But there is a high likelihood that the flock of song birds (aka carnivorous, entitled, bird seed junkies) perched in my shrubs and trees out front will scarf up Mr. Wolfie and make him an eight legged snack pack. Ah, the circle of life.