I was watching a movie last night and petting Helob when I was reminded that I need to start buying presents in honor of some arbitrary calendar date memorializing the birth of some people that no one honors anymore. After I took a shower to wash off all the irritating hairs and lanced the bites left by my cute widdle cuddly tarantula, I settled down to a lovely evening of self-control and slow-connection internet shopping. I really only have one individual that deserves anything for Saturnalia.
Helob, my tarantula, provides me with such warmth and life sustaining love. There are few things in the world that a tarantula needs and none of these are available on the internet. I cleaned out his/her/its terrarium by scraping the top layer of dirt off with a plastic fork. I would have used my hands but the doctor said that if I get any more bites on that hand, I may have to get it amputated. Anyway, I cleaned out all the old webbing and the piles of dessicated cricket corpses. I also refreshed the water dish and diced up some apples and put them on a tray. Helob won't eat the apples, but the crickets I toss in her/his/its terrarium do eat it and then they get nice and fat and healthy for Helob to eats them, yes preciousess.
My cleaning efforts have really been rewarding. My apartment doesn't smell like dead crickets and tarantula shit anymore. The terrarium smells a little, but mostly like dried dirt. Maybe for its/her/his birthday, I will purchase a new terrarium and some clean, new strata for it as well. Then I could build Helob a pretty little burrow with a plastic roof and a nice cool floor. But then I wouldn't get to see it/her/him romping around through the field of webs and corpsesss, precioussess.