Hardy is Dead

Hardy* was a spider. I suppose Hardy may still be a spider, but Hardy may be a spider moving to another patio, probably closer to the beach or the kids, or Hardy may still be a spider in the sense that my lunch is still a burger. If a bird ate Hardy, I hope that bird is sitting his stuffed gluttonous bird ass on a branch and telling his bird buddies about the biggest toughest spider he ever ate in his life. He'll leave out the part where Hardy, the spider, fought fiercely to the bitter end and almost, but not quite, turned the food chain tables and had the bird for dinner. If Hardy is in spider heaven, God is telling Hardy how proud He is be about the day Hardy had 2 bees and a huge fly all snared in the web at once. Hardy ate well, and faithfully built his web across the back of our patio, rebuilding his (I always said "her" but the rest of the Fam could tell it was a "he") giant meal-net for the past 2 weeks. Hardy could sit on a 50-cent piece and hang all eight legs over the edge.

Hardy, if you're out there, please write and let us know how you're doing.



*Hardy is "Hardy" for the same reason all our various fish have been "Frank" or "Hart", the same names bestowed upon the many caterpillars and snails lovingly adopted as pets (albeit quite temporarily in some squishy cases) by tender-hearted #3.