I was at the front door, staring at the corner to my right. My wife joined me.

We stared together. “The big spider is gone,” I said.

She and I looked around to see if the big spider was just outside of its usual location. “I don’t see her,” I announced. “You?”

“Maybe he went somewhere else,” my wife replied.

The big spider is a ‘daddy longlegs’. I always thought it was a female because it was large spider. Spiders need to carry eggs so the larger ones tend to be female.

My wife disagreed. “I read that some large daddy longlegs are males.”

Windows flank our front door. The big spider had been in the right window for months, a sentry against insect invaders. I’d watch her web become larger and larger. Some days, I came in and she was actively adding threads. I couldn’t figure out the design, though. Made no sense to me at all.

We didn’t mind the spider’s presence or its web. Never bothered us, so we didn’t bother her. Papi never gave her a glance. Although he’s gone to chase down the laser’s red dot, he’s rarely interested in bugs, insects, or spiders.

This is a huge contrast to Quinn. Quinn used to go after anything that moved on the floor or wall, swatting and swatting with his little black paw. The thing is, Quinn was a coward. If the critter turned and headed his way, Quinn freaked out, backpedaling and scrambling to get away, trying to bat the thing as he did. I never saw Quinn ever ‘get’ anything, but any blueberries that found the floor were whacked across the room repeatedly until it disappeared under some appliance.

We checked the web for a few more days but the web remained empty. I asked our other resident spiders if they knew what had happened to her. None ever spoke up.

I guess it was just meant to end.

And we never named her. She was always just the big spider.