Why Don't Spiders Get Caught in Their Own Webs?

The question was light-hearted.  Whimsical.  The kind of query that is intended to lift the mood in a world that seems quite heavy these days.  The answer turns out to be enriching, sensible and metaphorically satisfying.  But first, lets consider the spider itself.

            We don’t have to go any farther than Stephen King’s It or Tolkien’s character Shelob in The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King to know that spiders are a favorite monster among the literati.  The most terrifying monsters are always the one’s for which we have an emotional frame of reference.  Godzilla is almost laughable, but the parasitic neo-forms of Alien makes our skin crawl and our gorge rise.  

As a rule, people take Ms Muffett’s attitude toward spiders.  Personally, I allow them to live if they stay out of my reach.   My largesse stems from the fact that I hate what spiders eat (flies, moths et. al) even more than I hate the spiders.  But woe betide the arachnid that leaves my self-identified demilitarized zone near the ceiling and starts hot footing it across the floor, table, or any place near me and a handy weapon.   Yes, spiders are useful, but they are also creepy and potentially dangerous.

            Spiders are not insects, they are related to them, but exhibit significant differences.  Spiders have two body parts, not three. They have eight legs instead of six.  They also have jaws and stingers, both of which can inflict some unhappiness.  But most of the time a spider’s venom is reserved for its prey, not humans.  While some spiders capture supper in various webs, nets and traps, a sticky substance on the silky strands is standard.  So why doesn’t the spider end up hoist on his own petard?   

            For what seems like an obvious question, the answer is a bit more obscure.  There are several techniques that make the spider an operative on its web instead of yet one more victim.  First, not all the web is sticky.  The central, victim snaring portion, is where most of the glue is deposited.  The spider tries to avoid those sections, and does so well, but not with 100% accuracy.  But the stiff hairs of the spider and its legs minimize contact with web.  The spiders constant grooming of its legs and feet keeps them clean of stuff that could get stuck, while its placement of saliva from constant foot washing offers a chemical that tends to repel the glue.  It is not true that spiders remain unglued because of oil present on their feet.  Spiders do not have oil glands. 

            An unsuspecting fly, darting squarely into the center of an orb weaver web will find himself stuck to multiple dots of glue on several surfaces of his body.  The more he thrashes about, the more stuck he gets.  The spider, silently waiting on the dry perimeter of the web knows from the motion what has happened and where.  The spider then quickly, nimbly, and on clean, dry, carefully groomed feet makes its way to the fly and gingerly injects it with a paralyzing venom, then wraps up his nasty meal for slow digestion later. 

            Here is where the morality lesson inserts itself.  Spiders make webs for a living.  Those of you who like to weave webs for your own amusement may not know where all the dangers lie.  That could lead to a problem.   Evidently, safety lies in a few simple rules.  Stay clean.  Avoid sticky situations.  Know the territory.  Move fast and stay on your toes.

            All creatures great and small keep the faith.