Figgis blows his stack (revisited)

By Carl Portman

I would like to tell you a story about Figgis. I originally wrote this article several years ago and this is now the extreme ‘past tense’ version. Everyone who owns a tarantula knows they must never become complacent when feeding or generally putting their hands in the vicinity of it. Hobbyists also have an idea which of their tarantulas are usually docile and which are more aggressive.

I personally never handle my tarantulas and have thus never been bitten. Why put myself in the position? However there is never a cast iron guarantee that one of the spiders will not suddenly mistake my hand for a snack whilst I am fiddling around in the enclosure. I am of the opinion that some theraphosids do after a while associate the lifting of the tank lid with the imminent introduction of food and therefore sit and wait. Others do not.

Let me introduce you to the character that was Figgis. He was a superb sub-adult male Psalmopoeus cambridgei. My wife (Su) and I had raised him from a spiderling. Figgis grew at a tremendous rate and had a huge appetite. Until the day in question, He had always sat patiently on his cork bark for me to drop a meal in the tank when he would derive a great deal of pleasure (presumably) from chasing the cricket around the enclosure.

It was on last day of July 1996. I dutifully brought Figgis down from the cabinet in order to feed him. When I opened the lid he suddenly lunged vertically at tremendous speed towards my fingers. In shock, I managed to drop the cricket in the tank whilst simultaneously closing the lid. What the heck! I calmed myself and re-opened the lid in order to lightly spray the tank.

Figgis went berserk. He ran towards me again and I quickly shut the lid. I was shocked by his behaviour. One does not expect such antics from a promising young lad of his age! Suddenly (and quite unbelievably) the little hooligan began attacking the lid by jumping vertically and hitting himself on it. He raced around the tank perimeter trying to prize open the lid. When I leaned over the tank to get a better view Figgis must have detected my breath (sudden air surge) and thumped the glass with his front legs and pedipalps.

I wanted to get on with feeding the rest of the spiders so I tried to blow gently down the side of the small gap in the lid in order to scare Figgis back down to the bottom. After a little resistance he did walk down to the substrate. I could now spray the enclosure but as I lifted the lid he turned and zoomed up the bark again. In a split second he managed to get the tarsus of one of his front legs over the top of the tank. I told myself not to panic and considered doing what I normally did in such circumstances. This involves allowing the spider to exit the tank then collecting it in a jar. However on this occasion the mighty Figgis had put the fear of God into me and having only kept spiders for a short time I was not happy to let him out. I imagined him flying towards my jugular with a desperate lunge.

The lid was down far enough so as not to let the rest of his body out. I pressed the lid gently against his tarsus thinking this would make him release and disappear…no chance. He was holding on with Herculean resistance.

I thought of an idea to beat the beast. I had a sheet of paper to hand and slid it down the gap to nudge him away. Instead of rushing away as predicted the angry arachnid furiously waded into the paper striking it with his fangs. He got hold of it and began pulling it away from my hand! He was amazingly strong and we had a mini tug of war that I won (Ha ha) but he still had one leg over that lid. In went the paper again and a big fight ensued. Figgis was kicking and struggling and absolutely would not give up. I swear there was a glint in the little chap’s eyes.

Thankfully after a minute or so he reluctantly retreated. I put the lid on tight and sat back totally aghast at the sheer ferocity of his attack. Figgis began stomping around the enclosure like a recalcitrant child and he even kicked the cricket away. He was not mature yet so surely he wasn’t after a girlfriend? Anyway he was bound over to keep the peace in the spider room for at least a month and not allowed within three inches of my hand. He seemed much better after that.

There are several points to this tale. First of all it reminds us never to be complacent when dealing with tarantulas, even if we think we ‘know’ them. If Figgis had bitten me he was in the mood to hang on in there. It makes me wonder what feelings spiders have. How much is intelligence and how much is instinct? Do they ‘think’ about things? Can they sleep in some form or other? Do spiders undergo character changes after the stress of a moult? We can only guess at some of the answers because we have an awful lot to learn about our fascinating friends. Perhaps in time, Figgis will visit me in a dream and whisper his darkest secrets to me.

One thing is for sure; if there is such a thing as a tarantula having a personality then he was a first class example. Figgis lad - I will never forget you and I raise my glass in your memory.